


We are all fools in love... or something.

by macsdennis



Category: Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, F/M, Fluff, Modern Era, darcy has a coffee shop, essentially the same plot, except modern, lizzy has a bookshop, rated teen and up for language and mild violence, reluctant romance ensues, violence/mention of non-con in chapter 18, will be multi chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 61,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macsdennis/pseuds/macsdennis
Summary: At the ungodly hour of nine a.m., there were no customers in Longbourne Book Emporium.It was a sort of running joke with customers that the name ‘Emporium’ suggested a large store, when in fact it was tiny, and sometimes felt like it couldn’t house all the books on the shelves.
Relationships: Charlotte Lucas/Mary Bennet, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 189
Kudos: 313





	1. Chapter 1

“Lottie?”  
No reply. Lizzy rolled her eyes in the direction of the store room. “Lottie? Hello?”  
Still nothing.  
“Charlotte Maria Lucas!” Lizzy hollered the name of her best friend and was answered with a resounding crash from somewhere in the store room.  
“For fuck’s- you made me drop a box, Liz! What is it?”  
Charlotte appeared in the doorway behind Lizzy, strawberry blonde hair distinctly rumpled and in disarray. Lizzy bit back a laugh and jumped down from the counter. “Sorry. I was just wondering if you knew who’s moving in across the road?”

Charlotte haphazardly stuck some pins in her curly hair, trying to salvage the style it was previously in, still looking disgruntled. “How should I know? I didn’t even know anyone had taken over that bloody shop.”  
“Well they have. I can see them right now.”  
Immediately, Charlotte scrambled over to the counter and looked out the window at the front of the shop. 

At the ungodly hour of nine a.m., there were no customers in Longbourne Book Emporium. 

It was a sort of running joke with customers that the name ‘Emporium’ suggested a large store, when in fact it was tiny, and sometimes felt like it couldn’t house all the books on the shelves. In fact, it couldn’t. Books spilled out off the shelves in what was once a very particular ordering system, but had since divulged into a haphazard jumble. The walls were covered in old book and film posters, the shelves were rickety and the computer on the counter sometimes made a noise like it might explode - but Elizabeth Bennet loved her little bookshop in the middle of Bristol, and she loved working with her best friend. Despite her mother’s continued insistence that Lizzy, at the ripe old age of 26, should ‘settle down’ and get married, Lizzy knew that she was perfectly content in her tiny flat with Jane and the cat. 

Charlotte poked Lizzy in the rib. “Ow! You almost made me spill my tea. I can’t waste this camomile shit, you know how expensive it is.”  
“I don’t know why you keep buying it, it tastes like dishwater. Look! There’s people outside the coffee shop.”

Lizzy looked, and saw that Charlotte was right. The coffee shop across the road, with its peeling paint and empty displays, had been abandoned by its previous owners some time ago, with no hint of any new ones moving in to take over. Now, however, Lizzy could see a (very expensive looking) silver car pulling up outside. As she and Charlotte sipped their tea and continued being nosy, two figures exited the front of the car. The girl who got out of the passenger seat was tall and slim in a way that, to Lizzy, suggested a permanent diet. Her short, choppy bob was the same deep ginger colour as the hair of the man who climbed out of the driver’s seat, which suggested -  
“Do you think they’re brother and sister?” Charlotte wondered; they both narrowed their eyes to get a better look. 

“Must be. Same hair, same bone structure. God, they look rich.”  
They did indeed. The girl was wearing an eye-wateringly expensive looking pair of sunglasses and heeled boots that Lizzy thought must have cost half her rent.  
“Wow. She’s pretty.”  
“Don’t let Mary hear you say that, mate, she’ll have a fit.”  
Charlotte punched her friend on the arm. “My girlfriend knows I only have eyes for her, dickhead.”  
“Please, I don’t want to hear about how disgustingly in love you and my sister are.” Lizzy peered again at the strangers. “He’s alright as well.” 

He was indeed - the woman’s assumed brother blinked in the morning sunlight, adjusted his circular glasses and said something to his sister, a smile on his face. He was met with a frown. Charlotte giggled.  
“She doesn’t seem happy.”

Lizzy sipped her tea. “Are we sad? Is this really sad, spying on people out the shop window?”  
“Nah. It’s... neighbourly. Oh, look, they’re getting boxes out.”  
The man lifted a large cardboard box out the back of the car whilst the woman watched without helping. As he struggled under the weight of the box, the man seemed to address someone who was in the back of the car. Then, the girls saw one of the back doors to the car open, and another man stepped out. 

Lizzy’s jaw literally dropped. 

“Bloody hell,” Charlotte whistled. “I know I’m gay, but he is gorgeous.”

She wasn’t wrong. 

Lizzy drank in his dark, curly hair, his strong jaw, his long legs encased in black jeans, his broad shoulders under a crisp white shirt. His hands, she noticed, as he lifted another box out the back of the car, were large and square. Damn. 

“Oh, my God,” Charlotte laughed. “You’re practically salivating. You need to get laid, mate. How long has it been?”  
“Shut up.”  
“Are there cobwebs down there yet?”  
“Fuck off, Lottie!”  
“No seriously, are you sure it hasn’t sealed up from lack of use?”

Lizzy shoved her best friend, sending her crashing into the counter, laughing uproariously. She turned back around to look out the window as Charlotte walked away, rubbing her elbow. The three strangers had disappeared inside the coffee shop. Charlotte’s voice came from the store room again. “Looks like we have a mystery on our hands, kiddo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am OBSESSED with modern au pride & prejudice fics, so thought i’d have a stab at writing my own with the classic coffee shop/bookstore premise 
> 
> hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

After a pretty slow morning, with only a couple of customers coming in for a browse, Lizzy decided to take her lunch break. As she walked past Charlotte with her sandwich, her best friend’s voice piped up.  
“You’d better not be going for a fag, Liz.”  
Lizzy froze. “I’m not.”  
“Why are you going to eat outside then?”  
“It’s sunny.”  
“Liz.”  
Lizzy faltered under Charlotte’s knowing glare. “Fine, fuck’s sake. It’s just really hard to quit!”  
“Elizabeth, you-“  
“Don’t Elizabeth me, Charlotte Maria-“  
“Oh, fuck off, fuck right off-!”

The bell above the door tinkled, and the two girls paused mid-argument. For a second, the sun pouring in behind the figure in the doorway gave the impression of an angel entering the shop, golden hair rippling in the slight breeze, poise graceful and light. 

“Hey, Jane.” Lizzy gave Charlotte one final shove over the counter, ignoring the reproachful look from her sister.  
“Hi you two,” Jane looked radiant as she came into the shop. “Busy morning?”  
Charlotte snorted. “What do you think?”  
Jane smiled beatifically. “I’m sure it’ll pick up soon. Lizzy, I’m doing some shopping but I just popped in to let you know Lydia and Kitty are coming for dinner tonight.”

Lizzy groaned and leaned back on the counter. Her two youngest sisters were both at university, although in different years, and were the bane of Lizzy’s life. “Janie, I really can’t be arsed to deal with Lydia telling me about which new lad she’s screwing or Kitty talking about her stupid philosophy assignments and how she knows absolutely everything now she’s in second year, and-“

“Elizabeth,” Jane shook her golden head. “We haven’t seen them for ages. It’ll be nice!”

Lizzy could hear Charlotte sniggering behind her. “I don’t suppose you and Mary want to come round as well? Mary can show us what else she’s been crocheting, maybe we can make it a family affair? Might as well get Mum and Dad involved too whilst we’re at it. Oh, I know, we can invite the new people from across the street!”

Charlotte grinned at Jane as Lizzy rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, but we’ve got plans, so I’m afraid it won’t be the entire Bennet clan and the hotties in your tiny flat tonight.”

“What plans?”  
“Oh, nothing really.”  
“You bitch.”

Jane blinked at the two girls. Lizzy always found hilarity in the fact that Jane, sweet, earnest Jane, never understood that Lizzy and Charlotte’s friendship was based on sarcasm, insults and, occasionally, violence. Obviously trying to change the subject, Jane smiled again. “Who are the new people across the street? The... ‘hotties’?” 

Lizzy lightly pushed her sister towards the back door. “I’ll tell you whilst I’m eating, I’m starving. Lottie, man the shop.”  
“Don’t worry, if a customer comes in I’ll make sure to send you a picture of the pig flying past.”

The smoking area out the back that Lizzy had set up when she took over the shop was simply a broken garden table, a deckchair and an upturned bucket. In a fit of gallantry, Lizzy allowed her older sister to have the deckchair, which she sat on gingerly. “You really should stop smoking, Lizzy.”

“I have,” Lizzy replied as she lit a fag. “I’m weaning myself off.” 

Jane rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. Lizzy considered her sister as she took a drag. Jane was her closest friend in the whole world, apart from Charlotte, and it seemed to be purely a stroke of luck that they were born sisters. However, as much as Lizzy loved Jane (and it was an overwhelming amount), she couldn’t help but harbour a sort of jealousy that had lasted 26 years. Lizzy didn’t like feeling jealous of her sister, but she couldn’t help it - who wouldn’t be jealous of Jane Bennet? Where Jane was fair, Lizzy was dark; where Jane was kind, Lizzy was cynical; where Jane was perfect, Lizzy was... not. 

“Liz?”  
“Huh?” Lizzy snapped out of her thoughts and quickly tapped her fag. “What?”  
“I asked who the ‘hotties’ are across the road.” 

“Oh,” Lizzy grinned. “New coffee shop owners. We think. Well,” she took a bite of her sandwich and continued to talk with her mouth full, enjoying Jane’s wrinkled nose. “They had a load of boxes that they took into the shop, so we kind of assumed.”

“And they’re... hot?”  
“God yeah. Lott’s already planning to propose to the girl. Her brother’s alright. But the other guy...” 

Jane waited for Lizzy to continue. “The other guy?”

Lizzy took a final drag and stamped her fag out. “My eyes were blessed, Janie. Literally blessed.”

“Wow,” Jane smiled slightly, dimples appearing in her soft, pale face. “Maybe you and Charlotte should go and introduce yourselves? Just to welcome them to the area. After all, if they do well running the coffee shop then you’ll be working opposite them for a while.”

Lizzy grinned. “Good point. We will definitely do that.”  
“And not just to ogle the good looking guys?”  
“You wound me Jane, I can’t believe you think so badly of me!” 

The two sisters went back into the shop to find Charlotte stood behind the counter, with at least a dozen books spread out in front of her.

“I can only find twelve copies of Dorian Gray,” she said angrily, directing her complaint at the books. “The computer says we should have fourteen.”  
“That’s because you take books home with you instead of selling them and then forget to bring them back,” Lizzy replied, grabbing the shop keys out her bag. “Come on, we’re going to say hello to the hotties.”

Charlotte immediately perked up. “Good plan. Might even get a free coffee. You coming, Jane?”

Jane hesitated for a second. “Well, I don’t work here, and-“  
“You do sometimes,” Lizzy gently shoved her towards the door again. “And it isn’t like you need to desperately get back to work right now, is it?”  
“I guess not.” As a children’s illustrator, Jane did the majority of her work from home, occasionally helping in the bookshop when she was available.

The three girls stepped out into the sunshine, prompting a “Gosh, it’s warm!” from Jane and a “I’m already sweating my tits off!” from Lizzy. 

Jane tutted at her sister as they crossed the road. “I hope you don’t talk so uncouthly when you meet these people, Elizabeth.” Charlotte snorted. “You sound just like your Mum, Jane.” 

Up closer to the coffee shop, Lizzy could see the work that needed to be done: there was no sign as of yet, the paint coating the outside of the shop was faded and peeling, and the windows were slightly grimy. “They’ve got their work cut out here, I reckon.” Charlotte pushed the door open and the party of three stepped inside. 

The shop was strewn with boxes and furniture, shoved haphazardly into the space, but it was such a large and open space that Lizzy could visualise it being a wonderful coffee shop some time soon. As the ladies walked in, someone popped their carrot-coloured head above the counter. It was the grumpy girl’s apparent brother, looking flustered but not unhappy. 

“Oh, hello,” he stood up to his full height and readjusted his glasses. “We’re actually not open yet, we’re just moving our, um, our stuff in-“

“We know,” Lizzy interrupted, smiling. She reached her hand over the counter. “I’m Lizzy, and this is Charlotte. We work across the road at Longbourne Book Emporium, we just wanted to pop across and introduce ourselves.”

“Oh, wonderful!” the man grinned and shook Lizzy and Charlotte’s hands in turn. “I’m Charles, but call me Charlie, Charlie Bingley, and...” He trailed off, and seemed to focus on something behind Lizzy and Charlotte. 

Lizzy turned around and saw Jane, positioned slightly further back; Jane, impossibly shy, usually hung slightly back during introductions and let Lizzy do the talking. However, looking at her sister now, Lizzy didn’t see someone shy and nervous - Jane looked enamoured. As Lizzy looked back at Charlie, she saw the same expression reflected on his face.

“This is Jane, my sister,” Lizzy explained. Charlie nodded, still looking at Jane. Charlotte nudged Lizzy, who continued. “She, um, works in the shop as well sometimes.”

Charlie nodded again, seemingly transfixed. Suddenly, he blinked. “Gosh, sorry, I, um...” He held out a large hand to Jane. She shook it daintily. Lizzy noticed that she was blushing. “Charlie.”  
“Jane.”  
“Lovely to meet you, Jane.”  
“And you.” 

They stood, hands entwined, for a beat too long. Lizzy was on the verge of suggesting they get married right there and then, when another voice came from behind the counter.

“Charles? Who are these people?”

The tall woman with the same colour hair as Charlie had appeared in the small doorway behind the coffee counter. She had pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head, revealing narrowed brown eyes and dark eyebrows that arched quizzically upwards. Behind her was the tall, dark haired man with the big hands. Lizzy cleared her throat and felt her face grow warm.

“Ah, Caz! This is Lizzy, Charlotte-“  
“Please, call me Lottie.”

“Lizzy, Lottie and,” Charlie turned back and smiled softly at Jane, who looked down. “And Jane. They own the lovely little bookshop across the road, they came to introduce themselves!” 

Caz smiled, but it was not a warm or friendly smile - she curled her lips up into a smirk. 

“Charles, I’ve told you not to call me Caz.” She stepped out from behind the counter; the mystery man stayed where he was - when Lizzy attempted to smile at him, he looked quickly away. “I’m Caroline, Charlie’s sister.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Lizzy stuck her hand out to shake Caroline’s; Caroline looked at it for a second, almost as if she was considering not shaking it, then took it gingerly. Her fingernails were manicured to perfection, and Lizzy suddenly felt a pang of shame over her stubby, bitten nails. Caroline then shook hands with Jane and Charlotte and stood back next to Charlie, looking expectant. Charlie swooped in.

“So, how long have you girls had the shop for?”

“A few years,” Charlotte answered. “Liz and Jane’s Dad used to own it but he’s retired now, so he passed it on to us.”

“How lovely!” Charlie beamed, at the same time that Caroline said: “Oh, a family business then. That’s... nice.”

“Yeah, he inherited it from his parents, so it’s kind of appropriate that at least one of us should take over,” Lizzy continued. “So now I own the Emporium.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “It’s a bit small to be an Emporium, isn’t it?”

Lizzy narrowed her eyes at Caroline’s tone. “And have you always wanted to own a coffee shop, Caroline?”

Caroline laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, Christ no. I’m just helping the boys transport their stuff.” Lizzy certainly couldn’t remember seeing her lug any of those cardboard boxes.  
“Caz is an event planner.”

“Caroline, and it’s a bit more complicated than that, Charles. I’m a project coordinator and public relations specialist.”

Charlie grinned again. Lizzy couldn’t help but grin as well - his smile was infectious. 

“Darcy and I had been talking for a while about opening a little café, so when we heard that the owners of this place had left, it was just too good to be true!”

“Is Darcy this gentleman?” Charlotte asked politely.  
“Yes, he is!” Charlie turned around to introduce this Darcy - but he had disappeared. “Oh. Sorry, ladies. He’s a bit shy sometimes.”

“He’s probably got important things to be getting on with,” Caroline cut in. “No offence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awww charles is just adorable 
> 
> i’m having so much fun adapting all the characters in a modern way. kitty and lydia soon!!


	3. Chapter 3

Much later on, Lizzy finally let herself into her apartment. 

The rest of the day had been fairly uneventful: after meeting Charlie and Caroline, and not quite meeting the elusive Darcy, Lizzy, Charlotte and Jane had returned to the shop. Jane had ignored the continued comments from the other girls about her flushed cheeks, and had headed home after a quick (strictly decaf) coffee. 

With a distinct lack of customers for the rest of the day, Lizzy and Charlotte had spent their time gushing over how nice Charlie was, complaining about Caroline’s condescension and bitchiness, and discussing Darcy’s lack of presence. Now, at home and comfortably dressed in sweats and a stained David Bowie t-shirt, Lizzy could continue her discussion, but with Jane.

“And where does that Caroline get off on telling us that she’s a, a... what was it?”  
“Project coordinator and public relations specialist.”  
“Project coordinator and public bloody relations specialist! What even is that?”   
Lizzy took an aggressive gulp of her wine. “That’s not even a real job.”

Jane sighed and continued stirring the bolognese she was making. “I think it is, Lizzy.”

“Did you not hear the way she talked to us? ‘Oh, a family business, how nice!’, ‘Isn’t it a bit small to be an emporium?’.”

“We don’t even know her, Lizzy, I think you’re being a bit hasty in your judgement.”

“I think she’s being a bit hasty in being a condescending twat. And that Darcy, what kind of name is Darcy?”

“Maybe it’s his second name.”

“It’s a stupid name. He didn’t even come and introduce himself when we’d come all the way from the shop-“

“It’s only across the road, Lizzy.”

“-and then didn’t even acknowledge me when I smiled at him! Dick.”

Jane brought a spoonful over to where Lizzy was now lay on the sofa. “Taste.”

“It’s lovely. What time are the twin terrors coming over?”

“In about half an hour.”

“Fuck’s sake.”

*

Whilst Jane cooked and Lizzy grumbled, the coffee shop was still housing it’s new owners. The sun was just beginning to descend in the sky as Charlie popped open a bottle of champagne. 

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Really, Charles, was buying champagne necessary?” As she spoke, she held out her glass.

“Yes, it was necessary, Caz-“  
“Caroline.”  
“-because I couldn’t be happier! I’ve just bought a coffee shop with my best friend in the entire world, which is what I’ve been dreaming about for years! And someone up there is obviously on my side, because I’ve also met the most beautiful girl in the world!”

Caroline snorted and glanced at Darcy, who sipped his drink thoughtfully. “Do you mean Jane? She was quite pretty, I’ll give you that. But did you see the state of the other two?”

“Now, Caz, I think you’re being-“  
Caroline continued gleefully. “That Charlotte, her hair was all over the place! And what’s her name, that Lizzy - did you not see the way she was looking at me?”

Darcy suddenly interjected. “You did insult her shop, Caroline.”

Caroline glared at Darcy; Charlie averted his gaze. “When did I do such a thing? All I did was point out that it was rather small. Why are you defending her anyway, William?” She cackled. “Have you fallen in love, just like Charles?”

Darcy’s face was impassive. “I’ll admit that Jane was rather beautiful. Charlotte didn’t interest me. And as for Lizzy - she seemed silly to me, someone ditzy and flighty, and definitely someone who thinks she’s prettier than she really is.”

Charlie stared at his friend in disbelief. 

“Darcy, you are a pig. Lizzy didn’t come across as any of those things, and I for one think she is beautiful.”

“I thought you were in love with her sister?” Caroline replied peevishly.

Charlie rolled his eyes and shoved Darcy, who simply eyed him, unimpressed. 

“You’re both being horrible.”

*

“God, Liz, you look terrible, I’ve just noticed now we’re sat in the light. Are you sick?”

“Thanks Lydia. Nice to see you too.”  
Lizzy replied to her younger sister through gritted teeth.

Lydia didn’t seem to notice and carried on with her anecdote, twirling spaghetti around her fork. 

“So then the crazy bitch was shouting her head off over the phone to me, all ‘You shagged my boyfriend!’ and ‘I’m going to kill you!’, calling me every name under the sun,” Lydia took a short rest to knock back the last of her second glass of wine before continuing: “So I’m like, hang on a second, it isn’t my fault that your boyfriend didn’t tell me he wasn’t single, and then she carried on yelling, so I told her she obviously wasn’t interesting enough to make him want to stick around!” 

Lizzy stared at her youngest sister. “Lydia, what’s the matter with you? That poor girl!”

Jane subtly moved the open bottle of wine further away from Lydia’s place. “Lyds, that really isn’t fair. You shouldn’t have spoken to her like that, especially that last part.” 

Lydia huffed. “Lord, don’t have a go at me! I genuinely didn’t know he had a girlfriend.”

Kitty’s giggle made Lizzy think that her sister was potentially lying, but she was bored of the entire conversation and wanted to move on. 

“We met the new people who bought the coffee shop today,” Lizzy directed this mostly at Kitty, sick of Lydia’s inane gossiping, but, as usual, was answered by the youngest Bennet, who had a habit of talking over anyone and everyone. 

“Oh yeah? Anyone yummy?” Her eyes glistened. Kitty shook her head despairingly. 

“Lydia, will you get your mind out of the gutter for one second, please?” Lizzy grumbled. 

Lydia grinned expectantly.

Lizzy sighed. “Yes. They were all hot.” 

“You’re just as bad as me-!”

“Lydia, Lizzy, shush, please.” Jane put down her fork pointedly. “You always shout at each other. Can we just enjoy a nice dinner? It’s been ages.” 

Lizzy was beyond tempted to continue being childish and kick her sister under the table, but one look at Jane made her stop; Jane often unwittingly took on the mothering role over the other girls, and became distressed when they didn’t get along.

‘They’ usually referred to Elizabeth and Lydia.

Lydia rolled her eyes one last time then seemed to settle down. After a moment where the only sound was the clink of forks against plates and Radiohead playing quietly from the kitchen, Kitty spoke up. 

“Does anyone want to hear about my meta-physics assignment?” 

Lizzy groaned internally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should go to sleep but i want to keep updating! 
> 
> i wrote a lot of these chapters a while ago but i’m only just uploading them into a fic
> 
> lydia is so fun to write because she’s so annoying! she and kitty will obviously be cropping up again later


	4. Chapter 4

“I swear that girl doesn’t do any actual uni work at uni.”

Lizzy slammed a pile of new hardbacks onto the counter in front of Charlotte. 

“Has Lydia ever done any sort of work, at all, ever?” Charlotte asked sympathetically. “I can’t even remember what she’s doing at uni.”

“Psychology. Once again, she’s changed her mind about her future and is set on being a psychiatrist.”

Charlotte gawked at Lizzy over her cup of tea. 

“Are you serious? Lydia would be the worst psychiatrist EVER - the whole job is listening to other people, she hates listening to other people!”

“Don’t you think I haven’t told her that?” 

By noon in the shop, Lizzy had exhausted all of her complaining energy on grumbling about how annoying her youngest sister was. The dinner at the flat last night had actually turned out to be quite nice, once Kitty had stopped trying to explain the difference between potentiality and actuality. Jane had invited the girls to stop over in the spare room, but (fortunately, in Lizzy’s opinion), they both had a ‘very exclusive party’ to attend, so had dashed off to a pre-drinks somewhere. 

Lizzy could hardly fathom how grateful she was for Lydia’s active social life; sharing a bathroom with her younger sister in the morning was worse than a nightmare. 

In between complaining to Charlotte and making endless cups of tea, Lizzy was pleasantly surprised that the Emporium had actually seen a few customers - not just browsers, people who actually picked up books and bought them. With actual money. 

In the lunchtime lull, Lizzy came back from definitely NOT having a sneaky cigarette and flopped down behind the counter in the tiny chair. Lottie sat precariously on the ledge next to the till.

“I’ve got a prediction.” 

Lizzy rolled her eyes. “What now?”

“I think Janie’s going to marry that Charlie guy.”

Lizzy almost choked on her tea as she scoffed. “What? Don’t be insane.”

“Liz, did you see the way they looked at each other?” Charlotte was warming to her theme now, making Lizzy shake her head. “And their hands were like magnets, they were one step away from practically having sex right there!”

“Gross! That’s my sister, just because you fancy her doesn’t mean you can talk about her having sex.”

“Fuck off, Liz, everyone fancies Jane. Anyway, it’s your other sister I fancy now, and I’ll happily fill you in on the details of our sex life.”

“Oh, you are truly disgusting.” Lizzy pushed off from the chair and walked around the counter, narrowly avoiding toppling a pile of books onto the floor. “As your manager, I’m-“

She stopped short when she looked out the window.

“What?” Charlotte jumped down from the counter and followed Lizzy’s gaze. “Oh my God!”

Charlie Bingley was walking across the road from the coffee shop, looking nervously from side to side as he crossed. He was holding what looked like a takeaway coffee tray in his hands, very carefully. 

“I’m actually psychic, that’s so weird-“  
“You’re not psychic, Lottie! Act normal and don’t propose on behalf of my sister.” 

Just as the bell on the door tinkled and the tall man came into the shop, Lottie let out a huge burst of laughter. Lizzy felt like kicking her. Charlie blinked nervously. 

“Um, hi.” He chuckled. “Something funny?”  
“No, not at all.” Lizzy tried to smile in a normal way. Lottie hiccuped and Lizzy forced herself to not kick her best friend. “What can we do for you, Charlie?”

Charlie immediately seemed less anxious and thrust out the coffee holder towards them, which held three paper cups with an artsy logo on the side. “Since you were so kind to come and welcome us yesterday, I thought I’d bring you a little something.” 

Lizzy took a cup then handed one to Charlotte. “Oh, Charlie, you didn’t have to do that?”  
“I, um, I’m not sure what sort of coffee you drink, so I just made caramel and vanilla lattes.” His brown eyes were wide and anxious behind his glasses as the girls sipped their drinks. 

“Fuck, Charlie,” Lottie grinned at him. “That’s good coffee.”  
“Really, very good coffee.” Lizzy agreed. “Thanks so much.” She eyed the third cup. “Who’s that for?” She was pretty sure she knew the answer. 

The speed at which Charlie’s cheeks flushed was alarming. “Oh, I just thought, um, I wondered if your sister was, ahem, in the shop today, so I brought a third one just in c-case she was.” 

Lizzy smiled gently at him - he really was adorable. “She’s working from home today, sorry. But I know she’ll appreciate the gesture when I tell her.”

“I’ll have the coffee,” Charlotte offered. “It’s so good I want to inject it.”

Charlie laughed again, less anxiously this time. “Yeah, go for it. Do either of you, um, know when Jane will be back in the shop? I could, um, bring her one round?”

“She’ll probably pop in on Monday, it’s Lottie’s day off. But just to warn you-“ Lizzy leaned in conspiratorially; Charlie’s eyes widened. “She only drinks decaf.” 

“Right. Noted.” He adjusted the glasses on his nose and made an awkward sort of bowing movement. “I’d better be off, Caz will have a fit if I leave her to do all the heavy lifting.”

Lizzy ignored Lottie’s small nudge to her arm. 

“Thanks for the coffee, Charlie,” Lizzy said warmly. “It was lovely of you, and let us know if we can help with the shop in any way.”

“Will do!” Charlie turned around and went to leave, but then paused and faced the girls again. “Would... would you two like to come to a garden party tomorrow? At mine and Darcy’s house. It’s to celebrate opening the café, even though it isn’t really open yet. It’s more just an excuse to have a party, now that it’s summer, and, well, it was my birthday recently but I was out of the country so I didn’t really have a, um, proper party. I know it’s short notice, and a Sunday, but, um-“

“We’d love to come,” Lizzy cut Charlie off before he could give himself a brain haemorrhage from dithering. “The shop’s shut on Sundays anyway.”

“And I’m sure Jane will be free as well.” Lottie raised her eyebrows and winked. 

Charlie once again blushed a shade of red that clashed alarmingly with his hair. 

*

“Oh, Liz, I wish we’d have known sooner. I have nothing nice to wear!”

The next morning, Jane was stood in the doorway to Lizzy’s bedroom in a floor-length dress made of a soft, flowing fabric, printed with light pink flowers. The white spaghetti straps complimented her smooth skin tone, and her blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders.

Lizzy, lounging on her bed in a Zoolander t-shirt and a pair of men’s boxers, gaped at her sister.

“Are you fucking serious, Jane?”

“Don’t swear, you know I don’t like it.”

“You look like a fucking angel.”

“I can’t wear this,” Jane anxiously ran her hands down the front of the dress, peering into Lizzy’s floor-length mirror. “It’s too showy, it’s just a garden party.”

“Wear shorts then.”  
“But that’s too informal.”  
“I’m wearing shorts. It’s hot.”  
“No, it’s still a party, we still have to make an effort.”  
“I can wear shorts and make an effort!”

Jane sighed and left the room. 

Lizzy chuckled to herself and checked the text from Charlie again. Address - not too far away. Time - arrive any time after noon. He had assured Lizzy, Jane and Charlotte that there was no need to bring any alcohol or food, but the minute Lizzy had told Jane about the party she had gone into overdrive and driven to the supermarket to buy three bottles of wine - one red, one white and one rosé. 

“Lizzy, shouldn’t you start getting ready? We’re leaving in half an hour!”

Twenty five minutes later, Lizzy looked in the mirror and wasn’t... appalled. She had decided against the shorts, instead opting for a dress that she had ‘borrowed’ from Jane many years ago that somehow still fit her, a short green summer dress, patterned with white flowers. In a fit of frustration, she had shoved her dark hair up into a sort of bun, which had ended up looking not atrocious. She gave a very brief thanks to her mother’s genes for giving her skin that tanned beautifully in the summer, applied one more layer of lipgloss and thundered down the stairs. 

Jane was waiting by the door, twisting her hands together agitatedly. She looked, as usual, like a very anxious angel. Lizzy knew her older sister better than anyone - to any outsider, Jane would have looked beatific, genteel and completely, utterly calm. To Lizzy, she looked like a bundle of nerves.

“Oh, so you went for the long dress then? Suits you.” Lizzy thumped down onto the bottom step and began yanking her heeled sandals on. Jane huffed. 

“Lizzy, we’re going to be late, we still need to pick Lottie up!”  
“Oh, relax, he said any time after noon! It’s barely even ten past. God, I hate these little buckles...” 

After finally winning the wrestling match with her shoes, Lizzy scrambled into the car after Jane, the three bottles of wine under her arms. Jane subtly reached for her phone, but Lizzy slapped her hand away. 

“Hey!”  
“My car, my music.”  
“I’m driving.”  
“You’re driving my car. Hand me the cord, I am NOT listening to your Olly Murs and One Direction mega-mix for half an hour. It’s too much”. 

Lizzy smiled smugly as she plugged her phone in and Morrissey’s voice wailed out of the speakers. Jane wrinkled her nose. 

“I hate his voice.”  
“The lyrics though, Jane, the lyrics!”

They listened. 

“He sounds miserable.”  
“He is. He’s a miserable old twat.” 

Jane stopped outside Charlotte’s tiny house just in time to see Lottie legging it back to the front door because she’d forgotten her tote bag - a bold choice of accessory, Lizzy thought, to go with her spotted jumpsuit. Mary held it out for her, shaking her head but smiling fondly. Lizzy and Jane waved at their sister, who raised a hand half-heartedly and returned inside. 

“Charming. Always in a lovely mood, our Mary.”  
“Oh, she’s fine, Liz. Besides, Charlotte makes her happy.”

“Who makes who happy?” Charlotte queried as she clambered into the backseat. 

“Nothing, love.” Jane secretively smiled at Lizzy. 

“This fucking jumpsuit is giving me a wedgie.”

*

“Holy shit. This is their house?”

Charlie’s instructions in the text to Lizzy had led Jane’s car just out of central Bristol and to an area that Lizzy was deeply unfamiliar with - the posh bit. 

It was a completely detached house made with expensive-looking grey bricks - not like the normal, red brick houses surrounding Lizzy’s area of residence. There were two small stone staircases leading up to the front door, surrounded by beautifully kept foliage and bushes. 

“Fucking hell,” Lottie murmured as they walked up the stairs. Music could be heard from around the back of the house, as well as lots of voices talking and laughing. “Tell me how two men in their mid to late-twenties who own a coffee shop can afford a place like this?”  
“Maybe they’re cocaine lords?” 

Jane gave Lizzy a reproachful look as she knocked on the front door. “Maybe they’re just hard workers and bought a house, did you think of that?” 

The door swung open to reveal Charlie in a well-pressed blue shirt and jeans, a bottle of beer in his hand. He grinned and went to greet the three ladies, then seemed to realised who was stood in front of him. It used all of Lizzy’s willpower to suppress a giggle as she once again watched Charlie’s face fill up with blood and match his hair. 

“Hi, um, hello girls, I mean ladies!” For some reason, he had hidden the hand holding the beer bottle behind his back. “Welcome! Glad you came.”

Lizzy gave Jane, who was standing on the doorstep gazing at Charlie, a small shove. “Sorry, Charlie, I told her that you said we could go round the back, but my sister is very particular.”

Hilariously, Jane blushed almost as deeply as Charlie as they all shuffled into the house.

“No, I’m not, I just-“  
“It’s fine, it’s all totally fine, you’re here now!” Charlie couldn’t take his eyes off Jane’s face. Lizzy nudged Lottie, who pretended to swoon and accidentally knocked over the umbrella stand. 

“Shit, sorry-“  
“No, don’t worry-“  
“Lottie, you dick-“

Finally they all made it to the kitchen. The massive, gleaming kitchen, filled with plates of food and beautiful people in summer clothing, and -

“You have a bar in your kitchen?!” Lottie was incredulous. Charlie looked around. 

“Oh, yeah, that was there when we moved in. Can I get you all a drink?” 

When Charlie had fixed them all a home-made cocktail (which Lizzy finished in about five minutes because it was so delicious), he led them out to the garden, pointing people out. 

Well. He walked close to Jane, gazing at her as he spoke. Lizzy and Lottie hung back on the patio and watched them stroll around the huge lawn, Jane smiling slightly into her drink. 

“Mate, I think he’s in love with her.”

Lizzy considered the pair. “Certainly looks that way, doesn’t it? She definitely fancies the pants off him, I’ve never seen her like this.”

Lottie scoffed. “Like what? She’s acting the same as usual. You know I love Jane more than life, but she is absolutely crap at showing her emotions when she’s nervous. She’s gone into super-shy mode. Oh my God! He’s touching her arm!” 

“Right, stop being a stalker. Let’s get another drink.” Lizzy hauled Lottie around to go back to the bar that she was definitely not jealous of, but found herself face to face with none other than Caroline Bingley. 

“Oh, hi.” Caroline moved her sunglasses (a different pair to the other day, but still as expensive-looking) up on top of her head. “I didn’t know Charles invited you two, how... lovely.” Her lips were pursed in a way that made Lizzy very briefly consider punching her in the face. 

Instead, she beamed at her.  
“Yes, he brought us some coffee yesterday afternoon and invited us. It’s such a lovely party!” 

Caroline smiled mirthlessly. “It’s not my party.”

Lizzy couldn’t remember asking.

“I’m just staying with the boys for a couple of weeks whilst they fix up the little café and my apartment gets redecorated. I live in London, you see. Chelsea.”

Lizzy heard Lottie cough behind her. 

“Oh. Wonderful.” 

Caroline made a noise of disinterested agreement, sipped her wine and walked away. 

“Okay, I officially hate her, she obviously doesn’t want us here.” Lottie glared at Caroline’s retreating back. “Why is she acting so superior just because she’s, like, a paid extra on Made In Chelsea, probably. And how come Charlie’s so nice and she’s such a mega-twat?” 

“Oh, just ignore her. Her sunglasses look dumb. Let’s mingle.” 

*

Charlie felt absolutely stupid with alcohol and happiness. Except he hadn’t even had that much to drink - he’d been on his third beer when Jane and the other two arrived, and had stopped because he didn’t want to make an idiot of himself in front of her. 

He could hardly believe what she looked like. Lizzy looked lovely in her green dress, of course, and Charlotte looked... interesting. But Jane - she looked like something out of a dream. 

He watched her walk across the lawn towards her sister, weaving through the little cliques gathered together, bopping their heads to the music and laughing uproariously. It was about four o’clock - nobody he asked had kept track of the time - and nearly everybody was roaring drunk. Apart from him of course.

Charlie could think of nothing he would have rather done for nearly three hours than walk around the garden with Jane Bennet, ignoring everyone else, and just talking. He found everything about her enchanting - her beautiful hair, her delicate hands, her soft voice. But he also loved Jane’s passion for her craft: she was a talented artist (of course he hadn’t seen any of her work, but Charlie knew she must be) and loved what she did. When she spoke about her family as well, her four sisters whom she loved so much, and her parents, her face seemed to light up from within. 

Charlie sat down next to Darcy, who had hardly moved from his place on one of the outdoor sofas. Unaffected by his best friends passivity, Charlie reeled off everything that was coursing through his head regarding Jane Bennet. He was met with a sigh of impatience from Darcy. 

“Charles, you hardly know the woman.”  
“But that’s just it, Fitz,” Charlie could feel himself running away with his words again, but couldn’t find it within himself to care. “I feel like I’ve known her my whole life! I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s... she’s...”

Darcy furrowed his brow. “Are you drunk?”  
“No! Honestly, I’m not.” 

Darcy didn’t reply, but instead took a sip of his drink and stared into the fire. Charlie pushed his shoulder. 

“Anyway, enough about me. Darce, it’s a party! You need to mingle-“

“I hate that word.”

“- fine, socialise then. Talk to some girls.”

“I know hardly any of these ‘girls’, they’re mostly friends of yours and Caroline’s, and the ones I do know are either family, family friends or married.”

“For Goodness’ sake, Darcy. There’s plenty of attractive girls here for you to talk to. Have a dance, have a chat, strike up a conversation!”

“Easier for some than it is for others.”

Charlie was not to be put off. He looked around the garden but, before he could settle on anyone appropriate, a thought sprang to mind. “I know! What about Jane’s sister, Lizzy? She’s lovely, Darcy, really lovely and funny. And she’s very pretty.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” 

Charlie was incredulous. “I can’t win here, can I? What have you got against Elizabeth Bennet? Give me a good reason why you shouldn’t try and talk to her and I’ll leave you alone.”

Darcy looked up; his expression was simultaneously passive and world-weary. “I just don’t find her very attractive, alright? I don’t find her... tempting. Is that enough for you?”

Charlie shook his head in disbelief. “Sometimes, Darcy, I think you want to be unhappy.” 

He stalked off in search of Jane, leaving Darcy staring into the fire pit once again. 

Unbeknownst to either man, a certain woman in a green dress had moved to the outskirts of the lawn to have a cigarette behind the sofas, and had overheard every word of their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i love jane and bingley


	5. Chapter 5

to: Lottie   
I’m starting the countdown towards Charlie coming into the shop to see Jane 

from: Lottie   
Ask them if they want me to officiate the wedding, I can get ordained online 

to: Lottie   
As long as we can choose Charlie’s best man.

from: Lottie   
Still reeling over what that dickbag said yesterday?

to: Lottie  
I’m over it. Who gives a shit if Darcy thinks I’m good looking or not when he’s so obviously a posh, pompous little rich boy?

from: Lottie   
That’s the spirit. And you are good looking, I can promise you that. Now get back to work you slacker. 

to: Lottie   
You’re the slacker here, you’re not even at work. Enjoy your day off x

Lizzy smiled and put her phone face down on the counter. Mondays were always slow - and seeing as nearly every day was slow at the bookshop, the morning after the garden party had pretty much ground to a halt.

After overhearing Darcy’s scathing opinion of her - “I just don’t find her very attractive” - Lizzy had stamped out her cigarette, found Lottie and Jane and insisted that they all leave. In hindsight, it may have been a slightly childish move, but Lizzy knew she didn’t want to stay a second longer in the vicinity of such a rude and churlish person. 

Before she had gone to find Charlie, Lizzy had stalked past Darcy and Caroline. Briefly, her eyes had met his. 

His eyes were dark and narrow, shadowed by thick eyebrows. They locked onto hers; Lizzy had felt a surge of something rush through her chest - anger? Irritation? 

She had wrenched her gaze away and walked straight past.

Charlie had been disappointed that they were leaving so early, but before the party of three had left, he had scampered over and nervously asked for Jane’s number. Jane had been so bowled over that she could barely speak, tripping her way through the digits as Charlie typed them into his phone. Back in the car, Jane as the designated driver once again, Lizzy and Lottie had taunted and teased and laughed, but both of them could see how bewilderedly happy Jane was. 

Monday morning had rolled around, bringing with it a light headache for Lizzy (too many of Charlie’s delicious cocktails) and the opportunity to wear her usual work attire, jeans and some sort of band t-shirt, with much comfier shoes than the heeled sandals she had worn to the party. 

Lizzy sipped her tea and stared out of the shop front window. It was much cloudier than yesterday, threatening rain. She sighed. 

“Liz, do you want me to place this order? That new crime thriller everyone’s raving about just came out, we need it in the shop.” Jane called from the back office.

“What’s the point?” Lizzy answered, uncharacteristically morose. “Nobody buys any of these bloody books.”

Jane appeared in the doorway, her perfect eyebrows knitted together in worry. “Lizzy, don’t be so down. The shop’s always done fine, you know that.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. I’ll stop being so miserable.”

“Is this still about yesterday?”

Lizzy looked down into her cup of tea. Jane sighed and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“Oh, Liz. I thought you didn’t care what he thought?”

“I don’t, it’s just... oh, I don’t know. It just made me feel a bit shit.”

“Don’t let it get to you, you’re absolutely drop-dead gorgeous and you know it. And anyway, he’s just a... stupid prick.” 

Lizzy raised her eyebrows. “Wow. That’s, like, the first time I’ve heard you say anything bad about anyone, Janie. Well done.”

Jane blushed. “Yes, well. It’s true.” 

Suddenly, her blush deepened alarmingly and she ducked her head down. Lizzy craned her neck around to peer out of the window - sure enough, between the lettering embossed on the glass, Charlie Bingley was hurrying across the road, another coffee tray in hand. 

Jane took a shaky breath. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful. As always.” Lizzy was always breath-taken by her sister’s beauty. “But will you please stop acting like a twelve-year-old holding hands with her boyfriend in the playground, you’re both as bad as each other!” 

“I can’t help it, Elizabeth, I- oh, h-hello Charlie! Fancy seeing you here!”

Charlie ducked into the shop, the bell ringing above his head. He readjusted his glasses with his free hand and smiled crookedly. “Morning! Just thought I’d, um, pop these over to you both.”

Lizzy took her coffee. “Charlie, this is too kind, at least let us pay you?”

“I won’t hear of it. We’re friends now, and friends don’t pay.”

He held out the second coffee cup to Jane. “It’s, ah, decaf. A decaffeinated cappuccino with hazelnut syrup.” He suddenly looked stricken. “Oh, lord, you’re not allergic to hazelnut, are you?” 

“No,” Jane smiled shyly up at him. “I’m not. Thank you, Charlie.” She took the coffee from his hand.   
Lizzy saw Charlie gulp, and suddenly felt like she was some sort of intruder. Just as she was about to make some inane excuse to retreat to the back office, the bell above the door dinged again; Lizzy turned around, grateful for a customer.

Stood in the doorway was none other than Darcy, his mouth pressed into a firm line across his face. 

Lizzy felt her face heat up. 

“Oh. It’s you.” 

“Charles told me to come across.” Darcy quickly broke eye contact with Lizzy, apparently trying to look anywhere but her face. “I just had to sort some things out first.”

“Right.”

The silence was tense, until Charlie broke it by bounding across to his friend. “We brought cake, too!”  
Sure enough, Darcy was holding two small plates containing slices of, frankly, delicious looking sponge cake. Lizzy was grateful to not have to speak directly to Darcy.

“Charlie, you’re spoiling us!” 

“Oh, don’t be daft, it’s a welcoming present.”

“We should be the ones welcoming you.” Jane spoke up quietly, causing Charlie to smile even broader.

“Well. It’s a... a thank you gift, then.”

Nobody asked what he was thanking them for; Lizzy was almost certain that she could crack an egg on Charlie’s face and it would fry very nicely. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Jane broke the silence. “Charlie, I have some of my illustrations with me, you said you’d like to have a look at them!”  
“Oh, yes! That would be lovely!” Charlie reminded Lizzy of a spaniel in his eagerness as he followed Jane behind the counter into the back office. 

She simultaneously wanted to give Jane a pat on the back for making a minor move with the lovely man, and a shove for leaving her alone with the despicable one.

Still avoiding Darcy’s eye, she put the plate Charlie had handed to her on the counter and strode past him to start re-stacking the ‘Classic Literature’ shelf, leaving him standing by the door. 

Unfortunately, as she began unpacking the box of reprinted paperbacks that had been delivered early that morning, she felt a presence behind her.

“Would you like any help with that?”

Darcy’s voice was deep, and the sound of it sent an inadvertent shiver through Lizzy’s body. None of that, she reprimanded herself. He may be sexy, but he’s still a prick. A very sexy, self-righteous prick. 

“No, thank you.” Lizzy kept her tone polite but clipped. 

More silence. Then:

“Are you sure? I could-“

“I said I’m fine.”

“Ah.” 

The only sound in the shop was the quiet, tinny music coming from the battered old speaker above the door, and the hushed murmurs from the office. 

“‘The Great Gatsby.’”

Lizzy looked up from her place on the floor, where she was kneeling to stack the bottom shelf. Darcy stood a few feet from her, his hands clenched by his sides. His face looked more open than she had seen it before - the corners of his mouth were curled upwards, not quite smiling, but not frowning, either, like he usually was.

“I’m sorry?”

Darcy pointed at the book in her hand. It was ‘The Great Gatsby’, a newly printed version from a publishing house nearby. Lizzy didn’t know how to respond, and was about to ignore the remark, until Darcy began speaking again.

“‘So we beat on, boats against the current...’”  
“‘Borne back ceaselessly into the past.’” 

As Lizzy finished the quote, Darcy did something that she hadn’t seen him do in the few days that she had known him: he smiled. The only way that she could describe his smile was beautiful; his entire face, so dark and sheltered, opened up. His brow lifted and his eyes brightened. Then, as soon as it came, it left. He stepped backwards slightly and cleared his throat. 

“It’s, um, one of my favourites. A classic.”

“My final thesis at university was on American Literature.”

“Oh.” 

More silence.

“You studied English, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Lizzy felt undeniably, horribly awkward. She couldn’t deny that she would have loved to continue a conversation about American literature with the extremely attractive gentleman in her bookshop, but the leftover hurt and anger from the garden party still remained, stuck in her throat like bile. So she simply continued ignoring him and stacking shelves with no particular order, as was custom in her shop.

Fitzgerald.

Salinger.

Austen.

Brontë.

Defoe.

Shelley...

“I noticed you left the party early yesterday.”

Lizzy put ‘Frankenstein’ back in the box and stood up. She hadn’t noticed before how tall Darcy was - for some strange reason, she felt almost resentful that she had to lift her head to look him in the eye.

“Jane didn’t feel very well.” 

“She seemed perfectly fine to me. Charlie didn’t say anything about her feeling unwell.”

“I’m not lying.”

Darcy suddenly looked alarmed. “No, I wasn’t suggesting that you were. Is she feeling better now?”

“Well, she’s working, so what do you think?”

As she walked around him to get to the front of the shop, Lizzy had to admit she felt a small kick of pleasure at Darcy’s slightly hurt expression. She grabbed the window cleaner and began wiping the windows, just for something to do. She heard him shift behind her. 

“What, um, other pieces of American literature did you touch on in your thesis?”

Lizzy sighed internally. She wished with all of her heart that he would leave her alone. 

“‘The Sound and the Fury’. I used it in comparison to Gatsby when exploring differing themes and presentations of love.”

Darcy smiled again, but smaller this time. “Ah. Faulkner. I could never get on with his writing.”

For some reason, this comment, this small, insignificant comment about a writer that Lizzy herself didn’t particularly like, made her hackles rise. She put down the spray and turned around, feeling the resentment from the last twenty four hours rise in her chest. 

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Personally, I find his style too-“

“Is it not tempting enough for you?”

Darcy stopped dead. She saw him swallow.

“I’m sorry?”

Lizzy clenched her fists. “His style, does it not tempt you? Do you not find it attractive, Darcy?” 

The music in the shop suddenly seemed louder. Lizzy could heat Charlie gushing over some illustration in the back office. Darcy swallowed. His back straightened. 

“I didn’t realise you liked Faulkner’s writing so much.” 

Lizzy laughed bitterly. “Yes, well. I’m sure you’ll be able to find a book in here that is more tempting to you than that one. Go ahead, look around, maybe you’ll find one. But be careful, the shop is quite small. I wouldn’t want you to have an accident.” 

This time, she didn’t avoid Darcy’s gaze. She looked him straight in the eye.

He broke first; he turned on his heel and leaned into the back office. 

“Charles. We should get back to the shop.”

Lizzy barely registered Charlie and Jane’s badly hidden disappointment, and she hardly noticed Charlie say goodbye to her. She watched Darcy open the shop door, nod curtly at her and Jane, and stride out onto the pavement. 

Jane hurried over to her. “What just happened, Liz? Did he say something else?”

Lizzy shook her head and went back to stacking the shelf. “No. It doesn’t matter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> burn on darcy... he deserved it 
> 
> hope you’re enjoying so far!


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next few weeks, as summer slid into Autumn and the weather grew colder, Lizzy saw a lot more of Darcy than she would have liked to. Charlie paid frequent visits to the shop, armed with free coffees and new cakes that he had made, both when Jane was there and when she was not. He and Lizzy had become firm friends, cemented by her knowledge that he would do anything for her sister. 

The coffee shop opened officially at the beginning of September - it was named Pemberley’s, apparently after some old mansion that Charlie and Caroline’s family had inherited. Lizzy and Lottie happily watched people go in and out of the shop, smiling at the hanging plants outside and the old-fashioned lettering on the window. Often, when Charlie was outside serving customers at the front tables, Lizzy caught his eye from across the road and smiled encouragingly, to be met with his usual nervous grin. Caroline was there occasionally, always in some outfit that looked more expensive that the last, and never staying long.

Sometimes, Lizzy caught Darcy’s eye. She always looked away. 

After Lizzy had shut up the Emporium on a mild evening in early September, she made her way across the road to Pemberley’s. Charlotte was at home being looked after by Mary, with her annual dose of a cold that always reared it’s head in early Autumn.

Lizzy pushed open the door to the café; it was empty, and one table was piled with abandoned mugs. Charlie was scrubbing down a table, but looked up and smiled when Lizzy came in. 

“Hey, Liz! You okay?”

“Good thanks, Bing.” Lizzy began gathering up the empty mugs - when she had first started occasionally helping with the clear ups, Charlie had protested so hard he almost broke a blood vessel. Lizzy insisted that if he were to keep providing her, Lottie and Jane with free and delicious coffees, she should help out once in a while. He had eventually, but grumpily, relented. “Busy day?”

“Pretty busy. Been on my own as well, Darce had to go visit his aunt.” 

“Same here, Lottie’s ill. Although I’ll bet you’ve had a busier day than me.”

They cleared up in comfortable silence for a while, until Lizzy couldn’t help herself.

“So. Excited for tonight?”

Charlie cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly as he hunted for the keys to lock the shop. “I am, actually.” He suddenly looked nervous. “Um, is Jane? Is she, uh, excited, I mean.”

“Yes. Very excited.”

A few days prior, Charlie had finally plucked up the courage to ask Jane on a proper date. She had been at her desk in her illustration room, focused on her watercolours and hardly noticing as Lizzy brought her in a cup of tea. Then, just as Lizzy was about to leave to go and make dinner, Jane’s phone had rang, Charlie’s icon popping up on the screen. Lizzy had watched her sister’s face as she listened down the phone; she had coloured up immediately, but the blush had turned into a rosy glow on her cheeks as her face had broken into a smile. Charlie had invited her for dinner at a little Italian restaurant he knew. Lizzy could hardly contain her excitement, whilst Jane kept a level of composure that hid a fresh brewing of nerves and happiness. 

Lizzy followed Charlie out of the shop and waited whilst he locked up. 

“Can I give you a lift home?”

“No, I’m fine, it isn’t far to walk. You go and get ready for your date!”

Charlie nodded and readjusted his glasses before giving Lizzy a quick hug. “Okay. Okay. Yep. Um, probably see you later then?”

Lizzy laughed. “Absolutely not, I’m staying well out of your way when you come to pick her up. No interfering from me.” 

She watched him drive away. Plugging in her earphones, she walked home in the fading light. 

As she walked, she couldn’t help her mind wandering back to one Fitzwilliam Darcy. A ridiculous name. Lizzy had found out a few weeks ago from Charlie that Darcy was actually his last name, but he hated his poncey first name so much that he had always insisted on going by his surname. She wanted nothing more than to call him Fitzwilliam to his face, just to get another pang of satisfaction from his disgruntled and irritated expression. 

As she reached her block of flats after the short walk, Lizzy banished his face from her mind. No use dwelling on her hatred, she decided. No use at all. 

“Janie, I’m home!”

“Liz? Liz, I need help!” 

Lizzy rolled her eyes and put her bag down. She knew that the ‘help’ Jane needed would be regarding either clothing, hair or makeup. 

Jane was stood in the middle of her bedroom in a long skirt and a bra, her hair piled on top of her head. “I don’t know what to wear!” She wailed.

Lizzy flopped down on the bed. “Jane, you could wear a bin bag and he wouldn’t give a shit, he thinks you’re beautiful. Which you are. So stop bloody stressing.”

“Oh, you’re not being helpful.” Jane grumbled. She yanked the skirt off and pulled a dress off a hanger in the wardrobe; she held it up against herself in the mirror. It was a pale pink colour and knee length, flattering on her skin tone and blonde hair.

“Just wear that! It’s lovely.”

“Is it too... showy? It’s quite low cut.”

“Oh, Jane.” Lizzy sat upright. “Wear the dress, for God’s sake. Look, if you don’t wear that I’ll call him and cancel the date.”

Jane hastily put on the dress. 

As Jane fretted over her hair in the mirror, Lizzy rolled onto her back and put her legs up against the wall, like she used to do when she and Jane were kids and still shared a room. They used to lie in that position for hours, listening to their younger sisters running around the house, yelling, and their mother despairing at her wayward daughters. Their room had always felt like a safe haven to Lizzy, so it made sense to her that they lived together as adults. 

“Do you think you’ll go back to his house tonight?”

Jane put down her hairbrush pointedly. “No. It’s far too soon.”

Lizzy laughed. “Hey, I didn’t say anything to do with sex!” Jane pursed her lips slightly, in the same way that Mrs. Bennet often did. “I just meant for... coffee.”

“We both know what coffee is code for, Elizabeth.”

“If that were true, he and Darcy would have sex on tap for owning a coffee shop.”

Jane was about to retort, when her phone suddenly started ringing. She gasped. “Is that him? Check, Lizzy, check! Oh, gosh, what if he’s cancelled? I bet he’s cancelled-“

“Chill out!” 

Lizzy picked up Jane’s phone and sighed.

“It’s Mum.”

“Oh. Can you answer?”

“Do I have to?”

“Elizabeth.”

Lizzy huffed and rolled onto her stomach. She accepted the call and grit her teeth.

“Hi, Mum, it’s Liz.”

“Elizabeth! Hello darling, how are you? Where’s Jane?”

Lizzy loved her mother. She did, really. But Mrs. Bennet was undeniably hard work. Once the manager of a very high-end boutique in central Bristol, she had taken early retirement and moved to Brighton ‘for her nerves’ with Mr. Bennet, and now spent her days haranguing her much quieter husband and demanding gossip from her daughters, plying them with as much terrible, out-of-date advice as possible. She and Lizzy had always had a strained relationship - she had disapproved from the start of her second-to-eldest daughter studying English at university, and was constantly breathing down her neck to find a boyfriend and force him into marriage. 

“Jane’s fine, she’s just, um...”

Jane frantically signalled to Lizzy with a cutting motion across her throat. They both knew that if their mother found out she was going on a date, there was every likelihood that she would push her husband into the car and drive all the way from Brighton to sit a few tables away, watching like a hawk.

“...she’s washing her hair.”

“Getting ready for her date, I assume?”

Shit.

“How did you know about her date, Mum?”

Jane groaned.

“Lydia rang me this morning and told me!”

Lizzy knew Jane shouldn’t have told their younger sisters. The group-chat Lydia had set up for all the Bennet girls was nothing but trouble.

Before Lizzy could speak, Mrs. Bennet continued shrilly. “Now, promise that you’ll put Jane on the phone as soon as she’s finished with her hair? And tell her not to blow-dry it, it’ll go too frizzy and no man in his right mind likes frizzy hair, she’s better off letting it dry naturally, and make sure she puts it up, when it’s down it makes her face look fat. Lydia tells me he owns a little café opposite the shop, but that he’s very rich? Well, I said to your father, I said what is a rich young man doing opening a café? And in this economy too! But that’s by the by, if he’s got money then Jane should be okay, and if they end up getting married then she can give up doing those silly sketches and settle down already, I mean she’s almost thirty now!”

“She’s twenty-seven, Mum, that’s hardly middle-aged.”

“Yes, but you know I was married to your father by twenty-three and pregnant with Janie by twenty-four, and even that was too late for my liking. You as well, Lizzy, you need to find someone and settle down before it’s too late. Lydia tells me that this Charles fellow has a friend? Could you marry him?”

Lizzy laughed and rolled her eyes at Jane, who was looking on despairingly.

“Mum, I barely know the guy, and what I do know of him I don’t like very much, I don’t think we’ll be getting married any time soon.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, stop mumbling, I can hardly hear you. There’s no point being fussy about men, not at your age. Is Jane there? Put her on, I want to speak to her.”

“No, Mum, she’s still in the shower. Look, I need to go, I, um... I left the oven on.”

“For goodness’ sake, Elizabeth! I don’t know how you survive on your own, you hardly know how to look after yourself!”

“Mmm. Well, I need to go now, Mum, I’ll, uh, I’ll call you tomorrow. Give my love to Dad.”

“Chance would be a fine thing, I never see the old bugger, always up in his loft, reading his books. Oh, and tell Jane not to wear anything too revealing, wouldn’t want to give this young man the wrong idea. Or, actually, it might work in her favour, tell her to wear that pink dress with the low-cut neckline!”

“Goodbye, Mum.”

“Goodbye, darling!” 

Lizzy hung up and threw the phone back down on the bed. She and Jane stared at each other for a second, until Lizzy burst out laughing. 

“Jesus Christ. She’s actually insane.”

Jane groaned again and put her head in her hands. “Oh, maybe I should just call it off. I know Mum just does it because she cares but at this rate she’s going to scare off anyone I date, so it might be better to just nip it in the bud right now.”

The doorbell rang downstairs. Jane jumped up from her seat at the makeup table.

“Oh gosh.”

“Right.” Lizzy sprang into action. “You look amazing, literally stunning. Go downstairs, find your bag, don’t forget your purse and keys. Go and have a lovely time. I’ll wait up for you so you can tell me all about it.”

“Oh, Liz-“

“Go! Now!” 

*

Lizzy checked the time. 9 p.m. Jane and Charlie would be well into their meal by now, possibly even starting dessert. Laughing self-consciously. Blushing under the rosy lights of the restaurant. Barely keeping their composure. Falling in love.

Lizzy, on the other hand, was lying down on the sofa, wearing a dirty pair of joggers and an old t-shirt of her dad’s, mindlessly watching old ‘Friends’ reruns. 

She didn’t even like ‘Friends’.

Even the cat was ignoring her, choosing instead to lie on top of the radiator and glare over at her malevolently. 

“Wild Saturday night, Liz.” As soon as Lizzy realised she was talking to herself, she sat up and mentally slapped herself in the face. 

She couldn’t deny that she was lonely. Yes, she had Jane, and her other irritating sisters, and Lottie. And she had friends from university that she still saw, a few left from sixth form. And now she had Charlie. 

But Lizzy, in what she now begrudgingly called her ‘mid-twenties’, felt a gap in her life that went too deep for her liking. At university, she had had a few wild years (although not quite as wild as Lydia), containing a couple of flings and even one boyfriend in second year, Colin, until he became absolutely too boring and Lizzy was forced to dump him. Since completing her degree and taking over the shop, however, there had been a distinct lack of potential partners popping up around her. Working in a tiny bookshop with your sister and lesbian best friend doesn’t exactly provide a glorious horizon of dating opportunities. 

And she was not about to download Tinder. 

Although...

Lizzy’s phone sat slightly away from her on the sofa. 

Should she? 

Just as she went to give in and reach for the phone, the screen lit up and the chorus of Alanis Morissette’s ‘You Oughta Know’ began blasting, a ringtone that Kitty had set when Lizzy wasn’t looking and that she still didn’t know how to get rid of.

“Fucking hell.” Lizzy jumped what felt like a mile in the air; Jane’s face appeared on the screen.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Lizzy? Lizzy, something awful’s happened, oh my God, this is terrible...”

“Holy shit, Jane, calm down, what’s happened?”

Jane sounded frantic, and Lizzy felt her heart leap into her mouth.

“I think I’ve sprained my ankle! I got up to go to the loo and when I got into the toilet I slipped in these stupid heels and my ankle rolled and I can’t get up from the toilet seat and I’ve already been in here way too long so he probably thinks I’m-“ 

“Okay, okay. Fuck.” Lizzy scrambled up from the sofa and wedged her phone in-between her ear and shoulder as she yanked her trainers on. “I’ll come and pick you up, it’s a good job I hadn’t cracked that bottle of wine open. Send me the directions.”

“Okay, thank you, thank you! Don’t tell Charlie.”

Lizzy scoffed as she climbed into the car. “Jane, we have to tell Charlie or he’ll think you’ve fallen down the loo. Look, I’m driving now, just text him, tell him what’s happened and tell him I’m on my way.”

“Okay. Okay, thank you.”

*

Jane hardly spoke on the drive back to Charlie’s. Lizzy could tell she was mortified, and could also understand why. It wasn’t the perfect first date, spraining your ankle in the toilet, being escorted out by your sister wearing practically pyjamas, being followed out by an anxious looking man who you now wouldn’t speak to out of embarrassment. Charlie, however, had insisted on Jane and Lizzy coming back to his house.

“Jane, he’s being nice. All he wants is to make sure you’re okay.”

Jane averted her gaze, holding her swollen ankle as she sat gingerly on the step outside. 

“Can’t we just go home and pretend this didn’t happen?”

Lizzy looked over at Charlie, who was waiting nervously by her car and was deliberately showing that he wasn’t listening to their conversation.

“No. I’m putting my foot down, because you can’t. You sprained your ankle and he still wants to see you, so buck up, come back to his massive house and let us look after you.” 

Before Jane could answer, Lizzy signalled to Charlie that they would come back with him. Immediately he rushed over and helped to haul Jane upright, her face blazing. Now, sat in the car, it was silent. Charlie had given up trying to make conversation. 

Lizzy finally pulled up to the path outside the house, Charlie’s car leaving her unable to pull into the drive way.

“Stay here, one second!”

Charlie leapt out of the car and rushed inside the house; after a couple of minutes, he came back out - followed by Darcy.

“Oh, lord.”

“Don’t complain.” Jane spoke through teeth gritted from pain in the back seat. “You’re the one who wanted to come back here.”

With much manoeuvring, Charlie and Darcy were able to support Jane into the house, followed by a surly Lizzy who refused to make eye contact with Darcy. Finally, Jane was settled on the sofa, her injured foot resting on a small pouffe with an ice pack resting on top. She had finally found her tongue, but only to insist that she was fine.

“Honestly, Charlie, I’m quite alright, there’s no need to go to all this trouble.”

Before Charlie could reply, Darcy spoke up from where he stood leaning against the doorframe to the living room. “You can hardly walk, Jane. Please just rest. We’ll put you both up for the night to save Elizabeth having to drive back so late. I know the shop doesn’t open on Sundays anyway, so you won’t need to rush back.”

Lizzy turned around in surprise, forgetting to stay angry at him. “Are you sure?”

Darcy looked straight at her. Her breath caught in her throat. “Of course.”

The evening surprisingly passed pleasantly enough. Charlie made a batch of gorgeous peppermint tea for everyone whilst Darcy fixed up the spare rooms. With Jane being the invalid, she was allowed to decide what to watch, and chose the first Princess Diaries film. Charlie was delighted, whilst Darcy and Lizzy were both equally disgusted. 

They found themselves groaning at the same time when Jane chose the film on Netflix, locking eyes across the room, then both quickly looking away. 

With Jane and Charlie sat together on the sofa (an appropriate distance apart), Darcy on the armchair by the window and Lizzy slumped on a beanbag, the living room was a cosy and happy scene. 

But, as comfortable as Lizzy felt as she sipped her tea and fought the impending drowsiness of a busy night, she couldn’t help her eyes wandering over to Darcy. From where he sat, his face was illuminated by both the flickering light of the TV and the soft glow from the lamp near his armchair. His legs were stretched out in front of him, long and encased in a pair of smart black jeans. Lizzy wondered if he even owned any comfortable clothes. His brow was furrowed, shadowing his dark eyes even further. She couldn’t help but slide her gaze down to his hands once again - they were bunched into fists, like they do often were, and resting on the arms of the chair. 

As Lizzy watched, Darcy opened his hand and lay the palm flat on the arm. She lifted her gaze to his face, and saw that he was staring straight back at her, with a look so intense that she felt her throat dry up. 

She jumped up from the beanbag and yawned. “I’m, uh, going to bed. Very tired. Thank you so much for putting us up.”

Darcy immediately stood. “I’ll show you where your room is.”

Lizzy swallowed and walked out of the room, followed by Darcy, leaving a bewildered Charlie and Jane on the sofa together. 

Lizzy could feel Darcy behind her on the stairs. She turned around when she reached the top; he stood slightly below her.

“It’s, ah. It’s the room just on your left. There’s an ensuite bathroom inside, I’ve left out towels and, um, the usual. Toothpaste et cetera. Jane will be in the room just across the hall.”

“Thank you.”

The only noise came from the muffled television in the living room. Lizzy decided to jump the gun; she took a deep breath.

“Look, Darcy. I know we aren’t the best of friends, but I truly am grateful for how helpful you’ve been to me and Jane tonight.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Lizzy opened her mouth to speak again, but realised she didn’t know what she was going to say. She swallowed. Darcy’s mouth was set in a firm line. His eyes seemed to bore into her in the dim light on the stairs. 

“Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

“Goodnight. Fitzwilliam.”

He had turned around and began walking back downstairs, but turned his head when she said his first name. At first, he looked like he might shout at her... but then his mouth curled into that curious half-smile, half-frown. 

“Goodnight.” He said it one more time, before descending the stairs and returning to the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the only way i could think of to work in the ‘jane getting sick at the bingley house’ part... hope it worked??
> 
> god i love writing all this tension! 
> 
> incoming caroline in the next chapter


	7. Chapter 7

When Lizzy woke up the next morning, she was momentarily confused as to where she was. As the fog from her deep sleep cleared, she realised that the room she was in was much larger and cleaner than her own bedroom at home, filled with the smell of fresh linen rather than incense and cigarette smoke. 

Lizzy stretched, cracking her back, and rolled over to grab her phone from the bedside cabinet. She had a text from Charlotte.

from: Lottie  
How did the happy couple’s first date go? Did Jane surprise you and stay at his?

to: Lottie  
Yes... but not in the way you would expect. I’m here too.

from: Lottie   
WTF?! Did you go on a double date and shack up with Darcy?? Spill! 

to: Lottie  
NO !!! It’s complicated. Will explain later, need to get up.

from: Lottie   
Fine but you’d better explain or I’ll just assume you and D had a rendezvous and I’ll tell your mother. 

Lizzy chuckled to herself and put her phone back. The clock on the wall opposite her bed told her it was half seven.

Should she go downstairs? 

What if only Darcy was downstairs? Or what if she ran into him in the hallway?

Lizzy pondered as she got out of bed, pulling on her clothes from yesterday. She knew he was an arse - he didn’t find her ‘tempting’, he was rude and sullen in social situations and he was mean to Charlie. And yet, Lizzy couldn’t help but feel grateful for the care he had shown towards Jane, the gentlemanly insistence that they both stay over at his house. And he had seemed so sensitive when trying to discuss literature with her the day after the party, Lizzy found it hard to equate that Darcy to the man with the unpleasant temperament that she was now accustomed to. 

After brushing her teeth and trying to make herself look more presentable (to no avail - her hair looked like it had been dragged through a bush, so she frustratedly shoved it into a bun), Lizzy grabbed her pack of cigarettes out of the small bag she had come with and crept out of the bedroom. The house was completely silent, the large windows that seemed to be everywhere letting in the full morning light. Lizzy couldn’t comprehend how clean and tidy the house was - Jane was always tidying up after herself, hoovering once a week and polishing every surface whenever she could. Lizzy, however, was unashamedly messy. Much like the bookshop, her bedroom was full of knick-knacks and random items that sometimes seemed to appear from nowhere. She was constantly, and much to Jane’s chagrin, leaving empty mugs on side tables, forgetting to wash plates after eating, and leaving things like socks and underwear where they dropped. 

Charlie and Darcy’s house looked like something out of a catalogue. It had high ceilings and stylish furniture and, as Lizzy walked down the stairs, she noticed that there were pictures everywhere, on the walls, on mantelpieces, even a few attached to the fridge with magnets. As quietly as possible, she tiptoed around downstairs, nosing at all the pictures she could find. The living room mantelpiece held a large collection of photos, but the one that caught her eye was a slightly out-of-focus candid of two small children, perhaps six or seven years old. They seemed to be stood outside a huge, Georgian-looking mansion - the Pemberley house, perhaps? The slightly shorter boy was ginger, with a huge grin and chubby cheeks - he must be Charlie. The other boy had a shock of dark hair, and was looking away from the camera, assumedly towards someone else, a smile on his little red face. 

“Darcy.” Lizzy whispered. 

Charlie had never mentioned how long he and Darcy had known each other - Lizzy had simply assumed they had met at college or university. But judging by this picture, they must have been friends from a very young age. 

On a cabinet in the dining room, in an ornate silver frame, was a picture of Darcy and a woman whom Lizzy didn’t recognise. Darcy was unsmiling and standing very stiffly, wearing a smart-looking suit. The woman sat in a chair next to him was older, also not smiling, and staring straight at the camera. The photo looked stiff, uncomfortable and official. Darcy’s eyes were dark and hooded. 

After another ten minutes of perusing, Lizzy was in desperate need of a cigarette. She had a short struggle with the French doors to the back garden, but eventually let herself out and sat on the garden sofas - the very scene of the crime from the party. As she lit up, she laughed to herself. How ridiculous that she left the party over a comment like that, from a man whom she didn’t care for at all. 

“Elizabeth?” 

Lizzy jumped and almost dropped her cigarette. She turned around. Stood behind the sofa was Darcy, wearing a pair of frankly ridiculous checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt. So, he did own comfy clothes after all.

She swallowed. He still looked sexy. 

“God, you scared me. Morning.” She went to take another drag before catching his eye again. “Shit, sorry, is it okay if I smoke here?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll find you an ashtray.” He strode back into the house, before quickly reappearing again. The ashtray he put down on the table was ornately decorated, made of shiny grey metal. Lizzy could see that the side of it was inscribed with the letters ‘F. D.’

“Fancy ashtray.”

Darcy eyed it almost aggressively. “Mm. It was a gift from my aunt. Ridiculously expensive. I don’t know why she got it for me, I don’t smoke. Never have.”

Lizzy quickly put out her cigarette. 

Another awkward silence descended over them. Lizzy shivered as a cold gust of wind blew over the garden. 

Darcy blinked at her and suddenly stood up. “You’re cold. Let’s go inside.”

He held out his hand to help her up, and she was struck once again by his old-fashioned, gentlemanly mannerisms. The rational side of her knew she could stand up by herself, thank you very much. But, for some reason, she found herself reaching out her hand to take his.

His hand dwarfed hers. His palm was smooth and dry, the skin warm. As she stood up, Darcy’s thumb swiped over the back of her hand, an infinitesimal movement. Lizzy gasped very softly. Her eyes met his, locking onto his gaze. She felt her palm tingle within his grasp.

As quickly as he had taken her hand, he dropped it. Darcy cleared his throat. 

“I’ll make you a coffee.”

As he held the door for her to walk inside, Darcy avoided Lizzy’s gaze. She couldn’t help but notice that his hand, the one that had taken hers, was closed into a fist by his side. 

*

After Charlie and Jane came downstairs (separately, Lizzy was disappointed to note), Charlie spent a good while convincing the girls to stay for breakfast. He waved away any notion of them overstaying their welcome, and began frying eggs in protest to Jane going to collect her things. So, eventually, the four of them sat at the dining room table, eating a very pleasant breakfast cooked by Charlie, accompanied with delicious coffee courtesy of Darcy’s French press.

The air between Lizzy and Darcy was slightly stilted, punctuated by awkward conversation starters and long silences. Luckily, Jane and Charlie were babbling away to each other, so both Lizzy and Darcy listened to their flowing conversation as a way to ignore one another.

“Now, Jane, are you sure you don’t need to go to the doctor’s? Because I can drive you up as quick as you like if you need.” Charlie gazed concernedly at Jane’s foot, which he had insisted on propping up on the chair opposite her.

“I’m fine, Charlie, really. It just needs to be rested for a few days.” 

As they all finished off their breakfast, the front door could suddenly be heard opening. 

Charlie looked up from his plate. “Caz? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Caroline strode into the dining room, looking far too put together for a Sunday morning. She stopped short when she spied the four of them sat at the table, her eyes lingering disdainfully on Lizzy for a beat too long. 

“Oh. We have company.”

“Yes,” Charlie laughed nervously. “Um, Jane hurt her foot last night, so-“

“I would stop to chat, Charles, but I must get myself a coffee. Anyone else want one?” Before anyone could reply, Caroline dropped her bag and stalked into the kitchen.

Lizzy raised her eyebrows subtly at Jane, who pursed her lips in a small smile and looked away. 

Charlie laughed again, but humourlessly. Darcy said nothing. “Caz went to a dinner party last night, for work. She must have stayed over.”

“Ah.” Jane replied politely. Lizzy rolled her eyes, thinking nobody had noticed. Darcy caught her eye, however, and she flushed. But then he smiled slightly at her. Her heart flipped over, and she had to remind herself that he was a prick. 

Caroline came back into the dining room, high heels clicking on the floor. Lizzy didn’t understand how Caroline could go to a dinner party, stay over at someone’s house and still look like she was ready to walk a runway, whilst she was sat in joggers and an old t-shirt looking like she’d been startled by a fire alarm.

Caroline was evidently thinking the same thing, because she sat at the head of the table, a small smirk on her face as she took in Lizzy’s appearance. 

“So, you stayed over as well, I assume, Elizabeth?”

“Yes. In the spare room.”

“Which one?” Caroline laughed nastily. “We have so many.” 

Lizzy saw Darcy take a deep breath. Charlie cut in. “Liz was in the one next to Darcy’s room, Caz.” 

Caroline looked at Darcy shrewdly. “Really? How... convenient.” 

She sniffed suddenly. “Why does it smell like cigarettes?”

Lizzy flushed. “Me. Sorry. I smoked outside but it’s probably stuck to my clothes.”

Caroline sniffed again and wrinkled her nose, her brows raised. “Right.”

Lizzy felt frustration welling up in her chest like bile. It must have shown on her face, because she suddenly felt Jane’s good foot press against hers under the table. Her sister looked at her knowingly - it was a look that told her to stay calm. 

Lizzy smiled placidly. “How was your dinner party, Caz?” 

Caroline sipped her coffee, essentially glaring at Lizzy over the mug when she used the nickname. Lizzy felt a pang of satisfaction. “Wonderful. Oh Darcy, you must come along to another one, everyone misses you so much.”

She directed her comment at Darcy, but still looked at Lizzy, her brown eyes narrowed. Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You know I don’t really mix with that crowd, Caroline.”

“But they adore you, Will! You should’ve heard them last night,” Caroline giggled in a self-satisfied way. “Everyone is constantly asking if you have a girlfriend yet, they all think you’re so handsome. A lot of them are even wondering if you and I might end up together, could you imagine that!” 

Lizzy tried to catch Jane’s eye again, but she was looking down into her lap. Charlie hastily explained, talking to Lizzy. “It’s just a few of Caz’s Bristol-based colleagues. They took quite a shine to Darcy at the last party-“

“I keep telling you, Darcy,” Caroline interrupted her brother. “You’d be wonderful at my firm, you really would. There’s still a space open in the Bristol branch, you know.” 

Darcy finally spoke up. “Caroline, you know I’m very happy with the coffee shop. I don’t want to work in event planning.”

Caroline stopped smiling and simpering at him immediately. “Project coordination. And it was just an idea, no need to bite my head off.”

“I wasn’t biting your head off, I was simply telling you what I’ve told you dozens of times now. I am happy where I am.” 

“Fine.” 

Caroline pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’m going for a shower. Lovely to see you two again.” She spoke without even looking at Lizzy or Jane, before leaving the room with her coffee mug. 

A heavy silence once again. 

Charlie stood up. “More sausages, anyone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god caroline is so fun to write bc she’s so horrible!!
> 
> a certain nasty man beginning with W and ending in ickham will be joining us soon... unfortunately 
> 
> also just a side note, mr collins doesn’t exist in this fic bc i hate him and charlotte deserves better 
> 
> ALSO i keep adding in things about darcy’s hands purely because of ‘the hand flex scene’ in the 2005 film of pride & prejudice.......... i love it


	8. Chapter 8

By Monday morning, Jane was insistent that her foot was perfectly fine, and that she was absolutely able to come and work in the shop on Lottie’s day off.

Her protests lasted all of ten minutes before she was forced to collapse onto the sofa. 

“Janie, you can’t walk by yourself for more than a minute.” Lizzy reprimanded her sister as she got her stuff together to drive to work. “I can manage the shop fine by myself today, it’s not like we ever have any customers. Just... shuffle around the flat by yourself today. Or don’t, actually, rest your foot. ONLY get up when necessary, okay?” 

“Fine.” Jane rarely grumbled or sulked, but when she did it was a sight to behold. Lizzy left her on the sofa with her foot propped up on the foot stall that she had managed to cobble back together, grumpily sipping a cup of tea. 

By the time Lizzy reached the shop, her hair had been blown into one big tangle, and she cursed herself for not putting it into the bun that had become her signature style. The weather was horribly cold and blowy for so early in the morning and, as Lizzy fumbled to unlock the shop with frozen fingers, she decided that driving the short distance wouldn’t have been the worst idea in the world. 

The crappy weather should have been an omen about how the day would turn out. Maybe it was, and Lizzy just didn’t see it. It began when she closed the door to the shop behind her, switched on the bad-quality speaker to start playing her favourite Bowie album and pottered through to the back office to make a cup of tea. Strangely, the bell above the door rang and a couple of customers came in. Lizzy didn’t think anything of it - it was a shop after all, of course there would be customers.

The door hardly closed for the whole day.

Something about that Monday just made customers pour in and out of the shop. It was mayhem, especially because Lizzy was by herself. At one point, she caught Charlie’s eye across the road - he looked just as rushed, no less than four trays of empty mugs balanced on his arms. He looked at her helplessly and rushed back inside. 

Lizzy didn’t have time for a lunch break the entire day, and she could hardly haul herself up to make a coffee when the last of the customers dribbled out of the shop at five o’clock. Immediately, she rang Charlotte.

“Busy day?” Lottie laughed at her own greeting, expecting the standard response, but then gave a surprised exclamation when Lizzy groaned deeply down the phone.

“Oh my God. I forgot that shops could be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Busy!” Lizzy sat down heavily behind the counter. “Why has the world and his wife decided to take a trip into Bristol city centre today? It doesn’t make any sense! The shop hasn’t been this busy for years.”

“Oh, Liz! You should’ve rang me, you know I could have come in to help.” 

“No, no...”

“Lizzy.” Lottie sounded serious for once. “It’s Autumn term, the freshers at uni will be coming in soon and a lot of them, I’m sure, will need to buy books from somewhere. You’re the only full time worker at the shop, and you’re the manager. I think you should hire someone else, I don’t think it’s practical to just have you and me and occasionally Jane.”

After the phone call with Charlotte, Lizzy stayed sat down, thinking. Maybe she was right - maybe they did need to hire someone else. After a quick look over the shop’s income and spending rate, Lizzy cobbled together some vague idea that, of course, they could afford it! She made a mental note to get Jane to check the numbers over later. 

The light was dimming outside, and it was around the time that Lizzy would trot over to Pemberley’s to help with the clear up. As she wrote up a sign for the window, Lizzy vaguely heard Darcy and Charlie getting into Charlie’s car, but was too engrossed to wave hello. What she also missed was Darcy’s gaze lingering on the Emporium’s shop front for slightly too long before he got into the car.

Lizzy sat back in satisfaction. The sign, if she did say so herself, looked very professional - for something hand drawn.

STAFF NEEDED!  
* Prior retail experience preferable but not required  
* Monday-Friday  
* Inquire inside for more details or ring Elizabeth Bennet at this number 

Lizzy hesitated for a second before writing down her phone number, wary of prank callers, but decided that it was worth the sacrifice. Before tacking the sign to inside of the shop window, Lizzy knew she wanted to make one more phone call.

“Dad?”

“Hello, darling.” Lizzy smiled contentedly at the sound of her father’s voice. Mr. Bennet was the antithesis of his wife - where she was loud, he was quiet; where she was nosey, he was self-contained. Lizzy knew her parents loved all five Bennet daughters the same, obviously... but she also knew in her heart of hearts that her relationship with her father was like no other. When he had quietly announced his retirement four years previously, before moving to Brighton, and handed the shop down to her, Lizzy could have cried with happiness if she hadn’t have known that it would embarrass her father deeply. So, instead, she had given him a tight hug and promised to look after the shop no matter what. 

“Can I ask you something, Dad?”

“Of course, Lizzy, always.”

“What would you say to me hiring another staff member for the Emporium?”

In the background of her dad’s line, Lizzy could hear her mother squawking, asking who was on the phone, followed by a very firm shutting of the door. She assumed he was in his beloved library, shut away from the rest of the world.

“Did you call me just to ask that?”

Lizzy paused. “Yes?”

There was a short silence, followed by an unexpected chuckle. “Well, you don’t need to ask my permission for that! It’s your shop now, Lizzy. You’re the manager, not me. Hire away, by all means, but you don’t need to go through me.” 

Lizzy felt a rush of gratitude towards her father. “I know, Dad. I just... wanted to ask anyway.”

“I understand, love. So what’s this I hear about Jane’s foot?” 

*

A while later, Lizzy was sat in front of the telly with Jane, discarded Chinese takeaway boxes on the floor. Jane had tried to get up to cook dinner, but had been hounded by Lizzy until she sat down and let her order food. 

“Do you reckon you’ll get calls about the job any time soon?” Jane peered at Lizzy over her wine glass. Lizzy sighed.

“Oh, I don’t know. Who wants to work in a crumbly old bookshop?”

Suddenly, Alanis Morrissette’s voice began blaring from somewhere down the side of the sofa. Lizzy scrambled to find her phone; the number on the screen was unknown.

Jane squinted at the screen. “Who is it?”

“How should I know?”

Jane suddenly gasped excitedly. “The sign! Oh, maybe someone’s already seen the sign and wants to interview!”

“Shit. I’d better answer, then.” 

Jane stared at Lizzy expectantly as she held the phone up warily to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Elizabeth Bennet?”

The voice on the other end of the phone was a male voice. A very deep male voice.

“It is, who is this?” 

“Ah, good.” The man on the phone gave a slight chuckle, sounding slightly nervous. “Sorry to be calling so late in the day, but I was just walking home and I saw the sign in Longbourne Book Emporium. You’re looking for staff?”

“Yes, we are currently hiring.” Lizzy raised her brows at Jane as she spoke. Jane grinned happily. 

“Great. I’m very interested in the job, is there a formal interview process?”

“Oh, um...” Lizzy was stunned for a second. In the excitement of deciding to hire a new member of staff she had forgotten that she would actually have to interview people. Shit. Jane would have been so much more efficient. “Well, yes. I wouldn’t really call it a formal interview, I guess you can just pop into the shop and we’ll go through some questions to see if you’re the right fit?” 

Jane rolled her eyes in exasperation at Lizzy’s laissez-faire response. 

“Yes, that sounds wonderful!”

“When would be a good time for you to come into the shop?”

“Um... I’m free tomorrow?”

Jane’s eyes were wide. “Tomorrow?” She mouthed; Lizzy flapped her hand at her sister to tell her to be quiet. 

“Yes, tomorrow is fantastic. Could we make it one o’clock? I’m sure my business partner will be able to handle the lunch shift whilst we talk.”

“Okay. Okay, great. Thank you so much!”

“No, thank you for responding so quickly!”

“Name! Get his name!” Jane mouthed desperately. 

“Oh! Um, can I take a name please?”

The man chuckled again. “George Wickham.”

“Great. I’ll see you at one o’clock tomorrow then, George Wickham.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry short chapter!! i’ve been super busy with college tutoring recently, next chapter will be longer i promise 
> 
> also.... dun dun dun, wickham alert


	9. Chapter 9

“Okay, this is him, it’s definitely... oh, it’s not.”

Lizzy rolled her eyes and dunked a biscuit in her tea. It crumbled and fell in. Shit.

“This one! This is definitely him-! Oh. He walked past.”

“Give it a rest, Lottie. He isn’t even late.”

Lottie was stood, very conspicuously, behind the book display in the window, looking out for the elusive George Wickham. Lizzy had rung her straight after she ended the call with George and let her know that they had their first interview tomorrow, then had frantically come up with a list of questions to ask the potential candidates. 

Rain was drizzling outside, keeping up a dull background noise as it hit the windows. Lizzy had driven to work and had noticed that the tables and chairs that usually adorned the front of Pemberley’s had been taken inside because of the weather. She hadn’t seen Darcy and Charlie properly since Sunday morning, but had been keeping a close and furtive eye on Jane and Charlie’s text conversations. 

“It’s quarter to one,” Lottie turned around from her spying position by the window. “Surely it’s better to be a little bit early, make a good impression-“

As she spoke, the door swung open, bringing in a spray of freezing rain and a very tall, very wet man. He wiped his feet on the mat just inside the door and quickly pulled down his umbrella, revealing his face. 

All the blood shot straight to Lizzy’s cheeks when he smiled at her. His mouth was slightly too large in his face, but it suited him in a way that it wouldn’t suit a lot of men. His hair was damp and brushed back from his face, a light brown that contrasted with deep blue eyes, set deep in his face and shadowed by dark eyebrows. Lizzy was sure she could cut herself on his jawline.

“Hi, you must be Elizabeth? I’m George Wickham.”

Lizzy blanked out for a second, until she caught sight of Lottie over George’s shoulder making an exasperated face. She snapped out of her trance-like state and gave George what she hoped was her most professional-looking smile, sticking out her hand to shake his over the counter.

“Hi, George. Thanks for, um, coming in.” She bustled out from behind the counter, immediately cursing her choice to wear dungarees and bright yellow Doc Marten boots - she looked like a blind nursery teacher, for God’s sake. “Let me take your coat and umbrella... no, I insist, I’ll hang them up. Would you, um, like a cup of tea, or coffee?”

George let Lizzy take his coat and smiled easily at her, a stark contrast to her sudden nervous flapping. “No, I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Okay, great, if you’d like to step through to the back office just behind the counter, I’ll, uh, I’ll join you in just a second.” 

George smiled again politely and went through to the back office. Lizzy immediately rushed over to Lottie, her face blazing.

“Oh my God oh my God oh my-“

“Liz! For fuck’s sake, you’re not twelve!” Lottie grabbed Lizzy by both arms. “Now go in there and interview that tall, handsome, charming man and don’t be a complete dick about it, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Okay. Right. Okay-“

“Stop saying okay!”

“O- fine. I’m going. I’m going.” 

Lizzy took a deep breath and, prompted by a shove to her back from Lottie, stepped inside the office. George had sat down at the small table by the door that led into the smoking area, long legs clad in smart work trousers stretched out in front of him. His elbows rested on the tabletop, and his long fingers rested together, tip to tip. He smiled again as Lizzy walked in. She swallowed.

“So, shall we get started then?”

She sat down opposite him and cleared her throat, trying to look official as she pulled the question sheet towards her.

“So. George.” Lizzy studied his body language as she spoke; he sat up straight and looked into her eyes. She almost lost her train of thought. “Right. Can you firstly just tell me a bit about your prior experiences in the working world?”

*

By the end of the interview, Lizzy was convinced that she was in... not love. But definitely some sort of lust, perhaps? 

She had listened, enthralled, as George had explained how he had wanted to be in the army from a young age to follow in his beloved father’s footsteps, but was forced to quit after six months due to an injury sustained during training that had permanently weakened his left calf muscles. 

Lizzy didn’t think his calf muscles looked weak, before realising that she was in fact staring at his calves. 

He had studied Business and Economics at university but had realised that the office job he had landed afterwards was killing him slowly, leaving him depressed for the better part of five years. George then explained that he had travelled the world to ‘find himself’ again, picking up experiences and memories. Now, at the age of thirty, he was ready to settle down.

“And then I settled in Bristol. All I want is a, forgive me, fairly quiet job to help me pay my bills and keep my mind active. I’ve always admired the Emporium.” He had shown Lizzy that devastating smile yet again, and she thanked her lucky stars that she was sat down because her knees were definitely growing weak. “The elderly gentleman who previously worked here, was that your father?”

“Yes,” Lizzy had smiled at the mention of her father. “He passed the shop onto me and Charlotte.”

“How lovely. It is a gorgeous little place.” 

After an hour of both questions and informal chatting, Lizzy had filled up both sides of her question sheet. She led him back through to the shop, and was greeted with a surprise - something even more surprising than the few customers poring through the bookshelves at the back.

“Liz! I need to borrow some money.”

Lydia, clad in a neon gym set that made Lizzy’s eyes water just looking at it, was leaning against the counter. By the irritated expression on Lottie’s face, Lizzy could tell her little sister had been there a while. She sighed.

“Do you not have your own money, Lyds?”

“I’m skint right now,” Lydia was apparently too busy checking her nails to look at Lizzy properly. Lottie rolled her eyes. “I just need, like, twenty quid? I’m going for a post-workout brunch with Harry.”

“And who’s Harry?”

“A friend.” Lydia grinned slyly, then finally looked up. Her mouth immediately dropped. Lizzy followed her gaze; she was staring at George.

He held his hand out politely. “Afternoon. I’m George.”

Lydia shook his hand, simpering; Lottie could hardly contain her disgust, migrating to a shelf that needed re-stacking. “I’m Lydia, I’m Lizzy’s sister. What are you doing in the shop, George?”

Lizzy stepped in between them, breaking their handshake off. That glint in Lydia’s blue eyes was all too familiar. “He’s interviewed for a job here.” Exasperatedly, Lizzy grabbed her bag from behind the counter, pulling a twenty pound note out of her purse. “Go and have lunch with this Harry, then. And I want change, got it?”

“Brunch, not lunch.” Lydia was peering around her sister, instead smiling coyly at George. 

“Bye, Lyds!” Lizzy did all but shove her sister out of the shop. 

“Bye. Bye, George. See you around.”

George waved at Lydia slightly awkwardly. 

They watched her walk away, already gabbling down the phone to some unknown person. Lizzy sighed and turned to face George.

“I’m so sorry about her, she’s just atrocious.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, attractive smile lines forming around his eyes. “She seems... nice.”

“Too nice!” Lottie chipped in as she lugged a big cardboard box past them. 

George clapped his hands together once, matter-of-factly. “Right. I’m, um, going to head off then, unless there’s anything else you need to ask?”

“No, I think that’s all! I’ve got your number now, so I’ll get back to you as soon as possible to let you know.”

“Fantastic.” George held his large hand out to shake Lizzy’s. She took it and felt all the blood rush into her face again. Drat. 

George turned away to pick up his coat, just as the shop’s door opened.

“Oh. Hello.” 

Darcy stood just inside the shop, slightly damp from his short journey across the road in the rain, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. In his hands were two takeaway cups. Lizzy tried to conceal her surprise - it was usually Charlie who brought over the coffee.

Lizzy attempted a friendly smile. “Um, hi.” 

They were both at a loss for what to say, until Darcy seemed to remember why he had come over. He held out the two cups, a sort of hopeful looking smile playing on his lips. “I’ve brought beverages.” He cleared his throat. “Charlie’s looking after the shop. We’re quite busy today.”

“Thank you.”

Just as Lizzy took the cups from him (avoiding touching his hands again), she noticed him stiffen up and fix his gaze just behind her head. She turned, and saw George behind her, a small, humourless smirk on his face.  
In contrast, Darcy’s mouth had hardened into a firm line, his brows knitted together crossly above almost black eyes.

The air in the shop suddenly felt thick with tension. Before Lizzy could speak in an attempt to break the ice, Darcy met her gaze again. “I must be going. Enjoy the coffee.” He nodded at Charlotte, who was pretending to be engrossed in counting the money in the til, and abruptly left the shop. 

George sighed heavily. 

*

That same evening, Darcy sat in the living room as the sun slowly descended in the sky. The aroma of whatever dish Charles was cooking in the kitchen wafted through the house, smelling delicious, but Darcy didn’t feel hungry. The book he was attempting to read lay abandoned on his lap - he had bought it from the Emporium a few weeks earlier when he had overheard Elizabeth talking about it with Charlotte. Elizabeth had tried to tell him he wasn’t to pay for it, with an almost aggressive attitude that said she was embarrassed that he would even offer to pay, but he had insisted, ignoring her flushed cheeks and slanted eyes. 

For some reason that he wasn’t willing to acknowledge, Darcy wanted to read it so he could... impress her? Or even just talk to her about it. But he had become aware that all of their interactions were stilted, and every conversation they happened to have, usually consisting of long pauses and short sentences, came with an undercurrent of dislike. So what was the point? He tried not to think about how easily Elizabeth seemed to get on with Wickham, how she had unconsciously been leaning in towards him, gazing up at his face without seeing the malice behind his eyes.

Darcy gave up trying to read the book. Wickham’s face dominated his mind, the smug smirk that Elizabeth hadn’t seemed to have noticed fixed in his brain. He hadn’t seen Wickham for years, for good reason, and now here he was, potentially starting a new job just across the road from the coffee shop. 

As Darcy sat and pondered despondently, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he somehow wanted to protect Elizabeth from that man - but he knew it was unrealistic. He wasn’t a knight in shining armour, Wickham wasn’t a villain to be conquered and Elizabeth was far from a damsel in distress. 

Charles had not said much on the matter when Darcy had returned from the bookshop that day and begun making cappuccinos again, just raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. Charles had a habit of refusing to dwell on unpleasantries - sometimes Darcy questioned why Charles was still friends with him, a man who did nothing but dwell on the negatives and anxieties of a situation. 

Wickham’s self-righteous expression morphed into a different face in Darcy’s mind’s eye - a heart shaped face, framed with tumbling brown hair, complete with deep set blue eyes and a large mouth that was usually laughing about something. 

He stood up and walked to the kitchen, shaking Elizabeth’s face out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pining darcy makes me sad :(


	10. Chapter 10

September sloped its way along, the month moving so slowly that it seemed to be unwilling to graduate into October. The Emporium picked up more business in the Autumn - Lizzy thought it may have something to do with George’s presence in the shop, an observation confirmed by Lottie as another gaggle of university girls made their way out of the door one chilly afternoon.

“Okay, I know George is good looking,” Lottie directed her whispered remark at the shopfront window as she watched the girls giggle and walk across the road. “But is he that good looking that he should have his own fan club?”

“Yes.” Lizzy grinned at her best friend and handed her a mug of tea over the counter. “He absolutely is. Also, don’t complain, they’re coming in to buy books so they can ogle him.” 

They both turned their heads towards George, who was on a small stepladder fixing one of the dilapidated lights on the ceiling. Lizzy became invested in watching his shirt ride up his stomach ever so slightly, until she was distracted with a punch on the arm from Lottie.

“Ow!”

“You’re practically drooling, you loser.” Lottie rolled her eyes and shooed Lizzy away so she could serve a customer.

George had been the obvious hire out of the scant number of applicants they had received for the job. Most of the people who came into interview were either too old and stiff to reach the top shelves, or students who had finished college and were at a loss for something to fill their time with. There was no question about it - George was experienced, great to talk to, quick to learn... and definitely easy on the eyes. Lizzy briefly wondered if it went against her feminist principles to hire someone because of their attractiveness. Then George smiled at her from across the shop, and she put the thought from her mind. 

He was a natural with the customers, charming and forthcoming. He was quick on the uptake, immediately learning how to use the tills, take in the new stock, place orders and arrange the books. He even brought Jane out of her shell a bit - usually so nervous when meeting new people, Lizzy’s sister had immediately warmed to George and seemed to genuinely enjoy having him in the shop. 

And yet, Lizzy couldn’t shake that interaction between him and Darcy from her mind. 

Since Darcy had come into the shop on the day of George’s interview, Lizzy had hardly seen him. She had been to Pemberley’s once to drop off a book for Charlie and grab a coffee; he had come into the Emporium once after that to buy a book that Lizzy had mentioned in passing. The exchange had begun harmoniously enough, but grew quickly incongruous when Darcy insisted on paying for the book that Lizzy said he could have for free. It had ended with Darcy slamming the cash - which wasn’t even that much - down on the counter and stalking out of the shop, leaving Lizzy red-cheeked and furious. He had sent her a sparse text later on, simply saying, ‘Sorry.’ Lizzy had ignored it. 

But apart from that, nothing. And now Lizzy hardly ever helped Charlie with the post-shift cleanup, usually getting a lift home from George instead, who happened to live a few streets away from her and Jane. Even Charlie had been lacking in his visits to the Emporium, gradually changing his once-a-day ritual to maybe two or three times a week, and only when he knew Jane would be there.  
The change had hardly crossed Lizzy’s radar, until one day she realised it was past 2 o’clock and she didn’t have a cup of Charlie’s gorgeous roasted coffee in her hand. It wasn’t a huge change - but it was still a difference. 

Lizzy knew that Darcy was not compatible with social interactions. She had known him, in their own strange way, for a few months now, and he still acted like he’d only just met her every time they saw each other. She had almost forgotten the party incident and their angry interaction in the shop the next day, but it lay like a bad undercurrent whenever they interacted, stopping them from getting any closer and causing these huge rifts that dominated any conversation.

Something about his expression, his body language, when he had seen George... it made Lizzy think that they knew each other beforehand. And that Darcy didn’t particularly like him. 

After George had fixed the light and Lottie had gone to meet Mary on her lunch break, Lizzy tried to come up with a way to bring up the situation subtly. She began the conversation the way that any sane British person would:

“Cup of tea?”

George looked up from the computer by the till where he was placing a new order. “Oh, yes please.”

As Lizzy made the drinks in the back office, she gave herself a pep talk in her mind. 

“It’s not a big deal, you’re probably thinking too much into it. They probably don’t even know each other and, anyway, Darcy frowning at him doesn’t mean anything. Darcy frowns at everyone.” 

She took a deep breath and walked back through to the shop, carrying two steaming mugs of PG Tips. The shop was empty again, the latest band of George’s admirers having left. George was wiping down the shelves he had moved to the shopfront window, a huge cardboard box of books by his feet. Lizzy handed him a mug and he took it gratefully. 

“Thank you, Liz.”

“No worries.” She avoided his gaze before speaking up. “Hey, George, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” His blue eyes focused on hers as she finally looked up at him. God, he was tall.

“Do you, um... do you know Darcy?” In response, George’s mouth set firmly into a line, and Lizzy began to panic. “It’s just when he came in a couple of weeks ago it seemed like you might know him already, but maybe you didn’t get on very well? I know he’s, ah, a bit grumpy sometimes but he seemed, um, more grumpy than usual, and-“

“Lizzy, Lizzy,” George finally smiled again and Lizzy relaxed slightly. “Don’t worry. Yes, I do know Darcy. Or, I did know him.” He frowned. “I thought I knew him.” 

Lizzy, for once, didn’t have a reply. George sighed. 

“I suppose I should tell you our history. I know that you and Jane are friends with Darcy and Charles...”

“Oh, um. Not really. Well, I’m pretty good friends with Bing, and him and Jane definitely have something going on. But, Darcy? Not so much.”

George grimaced. “That sounds about right. Well, seeing as we have no customers...” 

*

“I grew up with Darcy, here, in Bristol. His mother, before she gave birth, was in the hospital bed across from my mother when they were both pregnant, and they became friends from that. I was born just a few months before Darcy, and so we became friends essentially from birth. Brothers, I should say. 

“We did absolutely everything together. We learnt to ride our bikes together, started nursery and primary school together, even went on our first ever date together in high school. Oh, no, not with the same girl, it was a double date. It didn’t work out for either of us, so we just... laughed it off, carried on. His family was my family. I never knew my father, you see, and... and when my mother passed away during my last year of high school, Darcy’s parents took me in. I was only sixteen, I had no relatives that I knew of to go and live with. Darcy was my only true family, so he acted like a brother and gave me a home. And I can’t fault his mother and father for anything, his parents were always the generous kind. But, according to Darcy, they were too generous towards me.

“The sad fact is that Darcy was never very likeable. I loved him like a brother because I think it’s all I knew, and I had known him since we were born. But he always had this sort of undercurrent of malice, this potential within him that seemed like he could snap at any moment. He’s the complete opposite of his sister, Georgiana. She’s a few years younger than him; Darcy’s parents thought they couldn’t have any more children, and then Gee came along.She was their little miracle baby. Gee is everything that Darcy isn’t. She’s polite, kind, generous. It pains me to say it, but it isn’t surprising that she was the favourite child. But, as well as that, Darcy also thought that his parents favoured me over him... honestly, I think they did. As we grew older, and especially after I moved in, I started spending more time with Darcy’s family than he did. He’s always been a private person, but he began avoiding all interaction with his parents, essentially bullying his little sister. He kept mostly to his room, with his only friend being Charles. I am honestly still to this day at a loss as to why Charlie and Caroline are still friends with him... maybe because they know that he has nobody else? 

“Then, when we had both turned eighteen, the most unfortunate thing happened. Darcy and Georgiana’s parents died. Car crash. I was an orphan all over again, it was devastating. But do you know the first thing that Darcy did? Found their will. He didn’t even seem to grieve, he just wanted to see what they had left him. They had written a will many years before, just in case of anything happening - they were just like that, the Darcy’s were very cautious people. To my surprise, they had left me all of their savings from the past twenty years, a huge sum of money. They left Darcy with the Pemberley mansion. 

“He went into a fit of rage and ordered me to get out. He and Gee went to live with his great aunt, Mrs. De Bourgh, and left me stranded. College had nearly finished, and I didn’t know what to do. I had access to all of this money, and nothing that I wanted to spend it on. So, I enlisted in the army. Never saw Darcy again, until now. And I haven’t seen Georgiana for years. And, well. You know the rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh that bastard wickham 
> 
> more angry darcy/lizzy interactions to come soon i promise!


	11. Chapter 11

“He’s an absolute arsehole.”

“Elizabeth...”

“Did you not hear everything I just told you, Jane?”

Lizzy was pacing up and down the small kitchen angrily as Jane sat at the table trying to placate her sister. 

After George had explained the entire, long-winded story of his relationship with Darcy, Lizzy had spent the rest of the day in a state of shock. As if she didn’t have reason enough already to hate Darcy! 

Jane was, as usual, taking a more measured approach, which was only serving to infuriate Lizzy further.

“It’s horrible what George says that Darcy did, Lizzy, don’t get me wrong. But... well, do we know that it’s completely true?”

Lizzy gawped at her sister, then laughed humourlessly and sat down heavily across from her at the dining room table.

“Why would anybody make up something like that, Jane?” Lizzy took a deep breath and unscrewed the bottle of wine that sat between them, pouring herself a large glass. Jane demurred. “You know what Darcy’s like.”

“Well, I know that he can be surly-“

“Understatement of the century.”

“-and I know he was rude about you, Liz, but I just find it hard to believe that he could be so... callous.”

“I don’t find it hard to believe.” Lizzy took a gulp of her wine and stared darkly at the table. “I don’t find it hard to believe at all.” 

For a moment, the only sound came from the battered old radio next to the oven. Lizzy looked at her sister - Jane looked sad, which was a very rare occurrence, and it made something twist in Lizzy’s heart. 

“Jane?” She made her voice softer. “What’s wrong?”

Jane smiled gently and twisted her fingers together. “Oh, nothing, I-“

“Jane.”

“It’s just... Charlie hasn’t texted me for a while. And he doesn’t come into the shop as much. I don’t think he’s interested anymore.” 

Lizzy watched her sister’s fake smile slide from her face as she spoke, and her heart truly broke for her.

“Oh, Jane.”

Jane took a deep breath. “It’s just... at a risk of sounding too much like Mum, I just, I don’t know. I’m twenty eight in a week, in almost two years I’ll be thirty. I just always thought that by now I would have found someone and, before you give me that look, Lizzy, I know it goes against all of your modern feminist principles, and I know that we’re not from the 1800s , waiting to be married off to the first rich man we meet. But, I just worry that if I haven’t found someone who thinks I’m worth sticking with by now, then maybe I never will.” She paused, looked down, then looked back at Lizzy and tried to smile encouragingly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Lizzy struggled to find a response. “Did you see a future with Charlie?”

Jane scoffed delicately. “Liz, I hardly know him. We went on one date which ended terribly!”

“It was actually a really nice night and you know it. Plus, your foot healed fine.”

“So why isn’t he coming to see me anymore?”

Lizzy considered her older sister for a moment. Jane’s problems with men, Mrs. Bennet had always said, cane from the fact that she was painfully shy. Lizzy always argued back and insisted that Jane didn’t have a problem, it was all the men she dated who had the problem. But even thinking to herself, Lizzy knew that ‘all’ was an overstatement when considering the men Jane had been involved with in the past. Jane had always been beautiful, so she had her fair share of admirers all through high school, college and university - but none of them had ever really gone past a few dates here, a little fling there. 

Lizzy remembered the boy that Jane had brought home, when they all still lived together. Lizzy was in her first year of college, Jane was in her second, and Mary, Kitty and Lydia had all still been at high school. Jane had announced in the kitchen, her face as red and shining as a beacon, that she was bringing a boy that she had been ‘seeing’ round for dinner. 

After the dinner debacle of Mrs. Bennet’s outward brashness, Mr. Bennet’s nervous disinterest, Mary’s churlish passivity and Kitty and Lydia’s childish flirtations, Jane had vowed never to bring anyone home to her family again - and Lizzy didn’t blame her. Jane stopped dating that boy, and had cried to Lizzy that he had been scared off. 

Since then, Jane hadn’t brought anyone home - she hadn’t even brought any prospective partners back to the flat to meet Lizzy. She was painfully shy, and Lizzy knew that sometimes, men assumed it was aloofness. 

Lizzy held Jane’s hand across the table. “Why don’t you invite Bing to the party next week?”

Jane looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “What?”

Jane’s twenty eighth birthday was next week, and Lizzy was insistent that she should have a... not a ‘party’, as Jane was quick to add when Lizzy had suggested the idea, but a ‘gathering’. A small gathering of friends and family at the flat - Jane had spent the last week making a very conservative list of guests, whilst Lizzy was busy wondering which cocktails she could attempt to make.

“Is Charlie on the list?”

“No, well, he was going to be, but then-“

“Invite him! It’ll show him that you’re still interested.”

“I am still interested-“

“Exactly. So, invite him.”

Jane smiled, then raised her eyebrows. “You know I’ll have to invite Caroline and Darcy as well, then?”

“Why? Don’t invite them.”

“Liz, it would be rude to invite just Charlie. If you want Charlie to be there, then you’ll just have to deal with the other two as well.”

Lizzy tutted and sipped her wine ominously. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But I’m not speaking to Darcy.”

“Very grown-up of you.”

Lizzy waited a beat before she went to speak. Her cheeks were already growing warm. “Would you, um, would you consider maybe inviting-“

“George Wickham?”

Lizzy grinned sheepishly. Jane shook her head and laughed. “Of course I will.”

“It’s a bloody good job Mum and Dad can’t make it. Can you imagine if she tried to talk to George or Charlie?”

“Don’t, you’ll give me an anxiety attack.” 

*

“Charles, this definitely isn’t slimline tonic!” 

“Oh. Sorry, I can go and change it-“

“No, leave it.”

Caroline sipped her gin and tonic and looked around the small pub disdainfully. Darcy, Charlie and Caroline were occupying a small table in the corner; the light in the pub was soft and the music was quietly calming, yet Caroline had still managed to arrange her face into a look of absolute disgust. Charlie sighed, and turned his attention to Darcy. 

“Excited to see Gee?”

Darcy had been sat silently since they had arrived at the pub. Caroline had attempted, as usual, to engage him in conversation whilst Charlie got the drinks in, and had, as usual, failed miserably. It was only Charlie’s mention of Georgiana that made him look up and smile slightly.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“What’s the time?” Charlie answered his own question by checking his phone agitatedly. “She’ll be here soon, mate. Gosh, I’m excited too, I haven’t seen Gee for ages. I wish she’d let me pick her up, she was bloody insistent on getting a taxi from the airport.” 

Caroline recrossed her legs, a movement that only she could make passive-aggressive. “Why has she come back?”

Darcy looked at her sharply. “She was due to come back for a visit today anyway, but I also need to talk to her about Wickham.”

Caroline scoffed. “Really, Darcy, I think you’re overreacting. Georgiana won’t even be in town for long, will she? It isn’t like she’s going to run into him.” 

Darcy’s fist clenched under the table. “Actually, Caroline. I don’t think I’m overreacting at all.” 

Caroline flushed and sipped her drink, avoiding Darcy’s gaze.

Charlie sighed, almost imperceptibly. 

“What’s wrong?” Darcy asked concernedly. 

Charlie checked his phone quickly before replying. “Oh, nothing. Just... Jane hasn’t texted me for a while. I’ve kind of got the impression that she isn’t interested anymore.”

Darcy paused for a second, then saw Caroline open her mouth to reply and jumped in before she could speak. “Look, Charlie. I’ve already told you this. If I’m being perfectly honest, I’m not sure she’s right for you.”

Charlie’s face was stricken for a moment, but he quickly rearranged his features into a look of indifference. Darcy continued before Caroline could cut in again. She huffed.

“Jane always seemed quite aloof, didn’t she?”

“She’s just shy...”

“Look, you said it yourself. I wouldn’t carry on something that isn’t worth it.” 

Charlie took a sip of his beer, looking miserable. Suddenly, his expression changed into an elated smile and he stood up from the table. 

“Gee!”

A tall girl, laden with bags and wearing a huge grin on her tanned face, was making her way towards the table in the corner. When she got there, she dropped all of her bags and was immediately swept up into a bear hug by Charlie. Caroline rolled her eyes. 

“Charlie!” Gee leaned back and smiled happily at the taller man. “God, I’m so happy to see you.”

She then turned to Darcy, who had stood up, waiting patiently by the table with his hands clasped together. As he moved towards his sister to give her a hug, she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his midriff, pressing her face into his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you so much, Will.”

Darcy hugged her tightly and kissed her on the side of the head. “Me too, Gee.”

They both finally stepped back from the embrace. Georgiana grinned at Caroline, who had not stood up. 

“Caz! Pleasure as always.”

Caroline smiled tightly. “Lovely to see you, Georgiana. You’ve grown.”

Gee scoffed and sat down in the chair Darcy had pushed towards her. “I’m twenty one, Caz, I don’t think I’ve grown.”

“Well. It’s been a while, anyway.”

There was a pleasant kerfuffle as Charlie eagerly sprang up to buy Georgiana a drink and Darcy moved all of his sister’s bags so they were out of the way, hardly able to take his eyes off her face. 

When Charlie came back with a fresh drink for everyone, he immediately turned his attention towards Georgiana. 

“So. Gee. Tell us everything!”

Gee chuckled as she sipped her pint. “Gosh, where am I meant to start? Thailand has been absolutely amazing, just fantastic. But, you know. I’m happy to be home for a bit.”

Caroline raised her brows. “And how long are you staying, then?”

“A couple of weeks? Three at the most.” Georgiana cheerfully ignored Caroline’s rudeness. “Will said I can have the spare room next to his.”

Darcy smiled. Charlie smiled. Caroline smirked. “Make sure it doesn’t have any of that girl’s stuff left over.”

“What girl?”

Darcy shook his head at Caroline, who simpered nastily. “Uh, nobody, Gee. Nobody. So, tell us about Thailand.”

*

The four left the pub fairly early as Caroline was getting antsy about having work in the morning: “I know that you two are essentially self-employed so you can rock up whenever you fancy, but I’ve got an actual office to get to!”. 

Caroline had gone straight to bed as soon as they reached the house; the other three had stayed up for a bit longer, drinking and talking. Charlie turned in after a while, but not until he had given Georgiana another rib-cracking hug. 

Darcy and Georgiana sat together on the plush sofa, the full moon outside illuminating the living room. Darcy drank in his sister’s appearance.

“Caroline’s right, I think you have grown.”

Georgiana chuckled. “Nah, Caroline’s never right. Nice to know that some things never change, eh?” 

“Your hair’s longer.”

“Well, that is generally what happens when you go to live in a hut in Thailand for a year. Hair grows when you don’t get it cut, you know.” 

Darcy laughed and pushed Georgiana’s arm light-heartedly. As he watched her chuckle to herself and sip her glass of wine, he felt his heart grow heavy, and knew that it was time to tell her.

“Gee?”

“Hm?” Georgiana studied her brother’s face and suddenly looked concerned. “What’s wrong? Why have you gone all solemn and weird?” 

Darcy sighed and wished he didn’t have to tell her. But she was his baby sister, and always would be. It was his job to protect her.

“I just need to tell you something.” He took a deep breath. “George Wickham is back.” 

Instantly, the colour seemed to drain out of Georgiana’s face; she was pale under her tan. She put her wine glass down on the coffee table. 

“Why? Why is he back?” Her voice was low.

“He’s working at the bookshop across the road from mine and Charlie’s coffee shop. You know that girl that Caroline mentioned? It’s a long story as to why she was here, but she runs the little book store and she hired him about a month ago.”

Georgiana gulped. “Do you know this girl well?”

“We... don’t have the best relationship. Charlie was, um, courting her sister for a while, but I don’t think it’s going anywhere.”

Despite the worry obviously clouding Georgiana’s mind, she snorted. “Courting? This isn’t a Jane Austen novel, Will, you can say dating.”

“They went on one date. That’s kind of how she and her sister ended up here.”

Georgiana’s eyebrows raised in interest, but knitted again with worry. “Have you told this girl what Wickham’s like?”

“No, I mean, me and Lizzy, we aren’t really on the best of terms, and I didn’t want to interfere-“

“Don’t you think she has a right to know who she’s employed, though?” Georgiana’s colour was back up as she grew agitated. “I was sixteen, Will!”

“I know. I know, and I still fucking hate him.” Georgiana started at her brother’s swearing. “I just don’t think any good will come from dragging up the past again. Lizzy and Jane will find out for themselves what an evil person he is. And I will make sure he doesn’t come near you. At all.” 

She still looked worried, but eventually Georgiana’s body relaxed slightly. She leaned her head onto her brother’s shoulder. 

“Thanks, Will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay georgiana! it was completely spur of the moment to have her coming back from living in thailand but it felt right for some reason haha
> 
> more details on her and wickham later on obvs but you can all probably guess the road it’s going down 
> 
> p.s. hope you appreciated my little meta austen joke ;)


	12. Chapter 12

The day of Jane’s party thankfully passed without any major hiccups. All through the Saturday shift, Jane bustled in and out of shop, laden with shopping bags of food, alcohol and decorations, seeking Lizzy and Lottie’s approval.

“Do you think this is enough wine?”

Jane placed the tote bag down on the counter and wrenched it open.

“Holy shit, Janie! That’s enough wine to get an army bladdered. How are you going to carry all of those?” Lottie tried to count how many bottles were in the bag, but gave up. Lizzy watched her sister’s face grow anxious again.

“I’ve been lugging everything to your car, Liz, just outside. Is it too many?”

“No, Jane. Calm down, it’s just a party.”

“It’s not a-“

“A gathering then. And hey, at least you know Bing’s coming! That’s something to look forward to, right?”

Instead of looking happy, which was Lizzy’s intention, Jane managed to look even more nervous. She picked up the bag again and slung it over her shoulder, her left side sagging slightly under the weight. 

“He must have seen me out the shop window. He didn’t come out to say hello or anything.” She sighed. “I’m taking your car.” And with that, she left the shop.

Lottie turned to Lizzy and raised her eyebrows. “She’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Lizzy chuckled. “At least it isn’t her actual birthday until Monday. She’ll be much more relaxed by then.”

“Yeah, because she won’t be waiting for lover boy to come round. Did Charlie say if he was coming tonight?”

“He texted her back about five minutes after she asked him saying of course he would come.” Lizzy suddenly grimaced. “Darcy and Caroline, too.” 

Lottie groaned and dramatically flopped her body down onto the counter, before realising that a customer was making her way over to the till. She straightened up and plastered on her customer service smile, pricing up and bagging the books as Lizzy stared morosely at the computer screen.   
When the lady exited the shop, Lottie turned to Lizzy with a grimace. “You’ll just have to stay out of that wankstain’s way, Liz, and try to have a good night.”

Lizzy grumbled as she walked towards the back door for a smoke. “George isn’t even coming.” 

Lottie called after her. “I’ll still be there, idiot! You know, Charlotte? Your best friend?”

*

As the last customer left the warmth of Pemberley’s and stepped into the darkening afternoon, Darcy looked out of the window and saw Lizzy struggling with the lock on the Emporium’s shop front door. He figured she was shutting the shop slightly earlier than usual to get ready for the party, and a swoop of anxiety suddenly captured his heart at the thought of seeing her later. 

Darcy barely suppressed a smile as he saw her drop the key and mouth a collection of expletives to herself. Maybe he should run across the road and offer to help...?

“Who’s that?”

A voice appeared at his shoulder, startling him. Darcy looked down to see Georgiana grinning up at him slyly. He felt himself flush.

“Oh, nobody. Just, it was just Elizabeth.”

“Ah, the infamous Lizzy?” Georgiana raised her eyebrows as her brother walked away to clean one of the large coffee machines. They could both hear muffled voices coming from the stock room - Charlie and Caroline.

“I thought you said you and Lizzy didn’t get on?” Georgiana pressed on, hopping up to sit on the countertop. 

“We don’t. Gee, I’ve just disinfected that, you’ll have bleach on your jeans.”

“Whoops!” Georgiana jumped back down, but refused to let her brother change the subject. “So why were you gazing at her like some romcom actor?”

Darcy continued determinedly cleaning, avoiding his prying sister’s gaze. “I didn’t realise that I was.”

“You definitely were.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Georgiana gasped in mock horror. “I’ve only just got here, and already my own brother is trying to get rid of me? The shame.”

Darcy sighed and turned towards her. “If you must know, I do quite like Elizabeth. I like her a lot, but we got off on a very bad foot, and I know for a fact that she doesn’t think very much of me.” 

Georgiana crossed her arms. “What did you do?”

“Who says it’s something I-“

“Will.”

“I... I misjudged her. And I was rude about her at a party, and she overheard. So, since then, we haven’t exactly been the best of friends.”

Georgiana rolled her eyes. “You’re unbelievable. Is she going to be at this party tonight?”

“Yes, it’s at her flat, in fact.”

“This will give you a chance to redeem yourself!” Darcy rolled his eyes and turned away, but Georgiana followed him around the counter. “Dress nicely, have a drink, remember to bloody smile, and try not to insult her. She might change her mind about you.”

“I highly doubt that, Georgiana.” 

Darcy continued disinfecting all the surfaces, giving Georgiana a chance to take a few of the cakes from the front display. The silence was companionable... for about two minutes. 

“You’re being utterly ridiculous, Caroline!”

“There, you’ve finally used my actual name!”

“Oh, sorry, I meant Caz. There, has that pissed you off enough?” 

Caroline stormed out of the store room, huffing as she snatched her handbag up from its place on one of the coffee tables. Charlie followed her, looking and sounding uncharacteristically angry. Darcy and Georgiana glanced at each other furtively. 

“I don’t like either of them, so I’m not going to subject myself to a painful little party in their tiny little flat. I’m not coming tonight, and that’s final!”

Caroline’s voice was high pitched as she continued shouting at her brother. Charlie ran his hands frustratedly through his ginger hair, making it stand on end. “Fine. Whatever. But I think you’re being really childish, so enjoy your night by yourself.”

“Oh, I’ve got my own plans, Charles, don’t worry about me.”

“I wasn’t worried about you, Caroline, I never am.”

With a final huff, Caroline slammed her way out of the shop. A moment later, they heard her car revving up and shooting away. 

Darcy and Georgiana both looked at Charlie. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Darcy cleared his throat.

“So. Just me and you then?”

“Yep.” 

*

By eight o’clock that night, the ‘party’/‘gathering’ was in full swing. Lizzy had insisted on making the playlist - “Nobody wants to listen to Michael Bublé’s top hits, Janie!” - and it seemed to be going down well with the small crowd. Whilst the flat was small, it seemed bigger due to Jane pushing a lot of the furniture to one side (still managing to make it look like part of the decor) and opening the wide doors that connected the living room and kitchen, creating a more wide and open space. In between shopping and having mini panic attacks at the bookshop, she had spent the day decking out the flat in fairy lights and arranging food and drink on every available table. In short, the flat looked absolutely lovely. 

Lottie nudged Lizzy’s arm. They were positioned to protect the alcohol from Lydia, who had arrived already a few drinks in.

“The place looks great.”

Lizzy grinned. “Doesn’t it? You know I offered to do the decorations but Jane wouldn’t let me. You know what she’s like.”

“Stressed when there isn’t something to stress about?”

“Absolutely.”

Lottie wandered away with another glass of wine to find Mary, leaving Lizzy stood by herself. She tugged uncomfortably at her dress - it was the same green one that she had worn to Darcy and Charlie’s house, except this she had paired it with matching green Converse trainers. Her hair was loose for once, curling down over her tanned shoulders. 

The flat was full of people: all five Bennet sisters and Lottie, a large crowd of Jane and Lizzy’s university friends, some of Jane’s old colleagues from when she worked at a magazine, a group of Lizzy’s pub friends. It was a good crowd. 

Lizzy spotted Jane making a beeline for her.

“You look great!”

Jane patted her hair, which was twirled up into a bun on her head, self-consciously. “Are you sure? Not too overdone?”

Lizzy took in her sister’s anxious, beautiful face, and the outfit she had spent so long dithering over, a simple blue shift dress. She smiled. 

“Absolutely perfect, Janie.”

Jane smiled, finally, in return. “Good. Do you think people are enjoying themselves? Does everyone know there’s food in the kitchen-“

“Jane, relax! Enjoy yourself.”

Lizzy pressed a glass of red wine into her sister’s hand. Instead of loosening up, Jane sighed and leaned in towards Lizzy. “I haven’t seen Charlie yet. He said he’d be here at eight.” 

“It’s only ten past. I’m sure he’ll be here, don’t worry. Just go and have a good time.”

Jane nodded, kissed Lizzy on the cheek and walked off to mingle. Lizzy thought she should maybe do the same, but one look at Lydia doing shots sat on the kitchen island told her that she was long overdue a cigarette. 

She left the warmth of the flat and strolled downstairs, letting herself out of the apartment building. The cold October wind felt like a knife on her skin - she realised, with regret, that she had forgotten to grab a jacket. 

Lizzy lit up and contentedly blew out a puff of smoke.

She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Darcy. At all. In fact, Lizzy thought that even one look at his stupid, solemn face, with its stupid, dark eyes and stupid, eye-wateringly sharp jawline might make her close her hand into a fist and punch him. Just when she was gradually beginning to warm up to him - when he had acted like such a gentlemen on the night of Jane and Charlie’s date, when he had began smiling at her from across the road - her suspicions that he was an utter arsehole were confirmed. Lizzy was glad he had stopped coming into the shop, her shop, her little safe space. It was not to be invaded by intruders, however sexy they were. 

It was a shame George couldn’t come tonight, she thought to herself as she smoked. Surely seeing his elderly grandmother could wait. 

Hang on. Lizzy furrowed her brow. He had said he didn’t have any family...

“Lizzy!” 

A shout from slightly down the street made Lizzy turn her head. Charlie was walking towards her, waving a bunch of flowers at her energetically, a bottle of wine in his other hand. She smiled - despite the fact that she was slightly peeved at him ghosting Jane, Lizzy was still happy to see Charlie. 

She was not so happy to see Darcy, who walked a few paces behind his friend. 

“Hey, Bing.” Lizzy stubbed out her cigarette and gave Charlie a hug. He must have felt her shiver against him, because he began gently pushing her towards the door. “God, you must be freezing! Without a jacket as well! Come on, let’s go up, I’m dying to see your flat.” 

Lizzy punched in the numbers to her flat and Charlie cheerily walked ahead up the stairs, leaving Lizzy just inside the door with Darcy. He cleared his throat, and she remembered she was supposed to be angry with him. And she was. Very, very angry. 

“Evening.” Darcy ventured a smile, which Lizzy did not return.

“Hello, Darcy.” 

A slight pause. 

“Shall we go up?” Darcy certainly looked nervous now; Lizzy’s heart was beating fast under her dress, but she retained her composure. 

“Of course.”

And with that cold remark, Lizzy turned away from him and stalked up the stairs, leaving him to follow behind. 

*

Since returning to the party, Lizzy swore an oath to herself to get as drunk as humanly possible, starting by pouring a shot in the kitchen and slamming it back. 

“Holy fuck, Liz!” Lydia appeared next to Lizzy, screeching in delight. “Thank God you’ve decided not to be boring, Kitty isn’t drinking with me.”

They both looked over to the sofa in the living room, where Kitty seemed to be deep in some sort of heated debate with one of Lizzy’s university friends, the glass of wine in her hand dangerously close to spilling as she gesticulated. 

Lizzy shrugged and poured two more shots. “Well, you know. I’m still relatively young, I should be allowed to get drunk now and then.”

She tipped the alcohol down her throat at the same time as Lydia, who squealed with delight then turned a pale shade of green in quick succession.

“Oh, shit...” Lizzy watched her younger sister bolt through to the toilet and shook her head. Maybe she wouldn’t get that drunk. 

For about an hour and a half, Lizzy drank, and chatted, and laughed, and danced. She danced with everyone (except Darcy, who was mostly keeping to himself) even improvising a sort of routine with Charlie to Come on Eileen. It was actually difficult to get Charlie to dance, because he was so engrossed in conversation with Jane for the majority of the night. Lizzy noted this with satisfaction, and went to meet Jane’s eye to wink at her, but her older sister was too busy gazing at Charlie. 

After a very energetic dance with Charlotte and Mary to a Backstreet Boys song, Lizzy collapsed, laughing, into the nearest chair, her hair wild around her red and sweaty face. Except the chair she landed on didn’t feel chair-shaped at all - in fact, it felt distinctly like a lap.

“Excuse me.”  
“Oh-!”

Lizzy leapt up, her face now even ruddier than before, and whipped around to see whose lap she had assaulted. 

“Oh. You.” 

Darcy stood up, looking embarrassed. His hands were clenched by his side. To Lizzy’s humiliation, they both began speaking at the same time.

“I didn’t see you-“  
“Sorry, I didn’t-“

They both cut off. Lizzy huffed. “Why are you apologising? You were just sitting there. Continue doing so.”

She tried to walk off to find someone else to dance with, but a large hand encasing her own stopped her. She turned back around to face him, her mouth slightly open in shock. Darcy’s face was illuminated by the fairy lights and swivelling disco-lights that Jane had bought, but his eyes were still dark.

“Elizabeth.”

“What?”

Darcy set his mouth in that familiar firm line and looked away from her for a second before speaking again, his voice a mixture of frustration and desperation. “Look, can we... can we talk? Please.”

“We are talking.” One point to Lizzy.

A muscle in Darcy’s jaw jumped. “Somewhere more private?” 

For a split second, Lizzy considered giving him an audience. His face was open, more open than she had seen it before; Darcy looked desperate, like he would die if he couldn’t speak to her, like it was absolutely imperative. 

Lizzy looked down. Her hand was still in his.

“Please?”

She shook her hand free. She leaned up towards him, her heart beating fast.

“I have absolutely nothing to say to you, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Lizzy turned around and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter bc i’m feeling generous 
> 
> jk i just have a lot of time on my hands 
> 
> ahhhhhh poor darcy!!


	13. Chapter 13

The first thing Lizzy noticed when she woke up on Sunday morning was how much her head hurt. The headache began at the back of her skull and seemed to slither to a place above the bridge of her nose, making her eyes sting. 

The second thing she noticed was the smell of vomit. Groaning, she rolled over (thankfully in her own bed) and saw a tumbled, messy head of dark hair on her pillow. 

“Lydia!”

The figure next to her shifted and made a guttural, moaning sound; as Lydia moved, the smell of vomit wafted over Lizzy again, almost making her retch. Lizzy leapt up and immediately regretted it, her head pounding. 

“I’m going to get some coffee, and I want my sheets changed and you out of my room in half an hour. Got it?”

Another groan.

“I said have you got it, Lydia?”

“Yes! Oh, God, I think I’m dying.”

Lizzy still couldn’t see her sister’s face, but from the sound of her voice and the stench coming from the blankets surrounding her, it seemed like Lydia had the hangover to end all hangovers. 

Lizzy herself wasn’t feeling too fresh; the scent of incense in her room smelt a lot stronger than usual, and the ache in her head thumped as she trudged through the flat to get to the kitchen. She caught a look at herself in the hallway mirror and groaned again. 

The remnants of the party lay all around the flat: empty glasses and cups littered every surface, a few random items of clothing were hung over pieces furniture, and, most conspicuous of all, Lottie and Mary were curled up on the sofa together, Lottie snoring softly. Lizzy picked her way through the mess and nudged them with her toe. Lottie snorted herself awake, in turn waking up a very grumpy-looking Mary.

“Did we not go home last night?” Mary croaked, leaning away from Lottie’s morning breath. 

“Apparently not. God knows who else passed out somewhere in the flat.” Lizzy grinned. “Lydia’s still here too. She’s been sick in my bed.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “She never knows when to stop.” She looked at Lottie, who was trying to bury her head in the sofa cushions. “Neither does this one, apparently.”

Lizzy yawned. “Come on, I’ll make breakfast.” 

But the smell of coffee and something cooking was wafting through into the living room. Mary managed to haul Lottie up from the sofa, and the three went through into the kitchen, where they were met with the sight of Jane standing at the cooker, looking perfectly composed in a fluffy pink dressing gown and matching slippers. She turned and smiled angelically as they all trudged in. 

“Morning! Sleep well?”

Lottie sat down at the island and lay her head on the counter. Lizzy grunted and began hunting through the drawers for painkillers. Mary raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t even realise we’d stopped over until Lizzy woke us up.” She yawned. “How are you so perfect this morning, Jane? I feel like a donkey’s arse.”

Jane began putting plates onto the kitchen island and ladling scrambled eggs onto them. “I didn’t drink that much last night, so I don’t feel too bad!” 

Lizzy laughed mirthlessly and rooted through her bag, which was on top of the freezer for some reason, for a cigarette. “Lucky you, then. I hope Lydia’s washed my bloody sheets.” 

As Mary essentially tried to pour coffee down Lottie’s throat, Lizzy moved closer to Jane, keeping her voice low. “Was everything alright with Charlie last night?” 

Jane blushed prettily and looked down. “Yes, actually. We talked basically all night, it was lovely.”

“Did you find out why he was keeping his distance?”

“Yes! It’s quite funny actually, we both thought the other wasn’t interested. He said that apparently Darcy thought I wasn’t right for him.” Lizzy tensed up immediately.

“What?”  
“Oh, don’t be like that Liz, I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. It’s all sorted now anyway. He’s taking me out some time next week!”

Jane turned back to the stove, still smiling to herself. Lizzy, however, felt like she might explode from anger, too furious to be happy for her sister. How dare that dastardly man, who had already wreaked so much havoc in other people’s lives, people whom he supposedly loved, feel that he had the right to meddle in her sister’s business? 

She stormed through to the bathroom, quickly brushed her teeth and ran her fingers through her unsalvageably messy hair. Ignoring her still pounding head, she then let herself out of the flat and bolted down the stairs, followed by Jane’s voice ringing out behind her: “Lizzy! Where are you going?”

Still in her green dress from the night before and no shoes, Lizzy jumped into her car outside the apartment building and began driving, smoking angrily out of the window as she went. She hadn’t checked the time, but by the sunlight peeking through the grey clouds in the sky, it must have been at least ten o’clock. 

Lizzy hated Darcy. She hated him! Gone were the days where she would speculate on his good looks or sit and think about what a gentlemen he could be, if he put his mind to it. There was nothing gentlemanly in that man, nothing at all.  
He had left very soon after their confrontation the night before. After walking away from Darcy, triumphant in her drunkenness and feeling like she had definitely won whatever competition was going on, Lizzy had continued to drink steadily until she heard the door shut over the music, and realised that he and Charlie had exited the party. Not long after that, more and more guests left, drunk and happy, staggering into the night, until Lizzy had fumbled her way to her bed and passed out some time in the wee hours.

Lizzy knew that what she was doing was impulsive, rash, and probably a bit mental - but when she thought of a younger Darcy kicking a vulnerable George out onto the streets, and the present Darcy poisoning Charlie against Jane, she saw red and sped towards her destination even faster. 

After what felt like an eternity, Lizzy pulled up outside the huge house. She exited the car, wobbling slightly as her head thumped, and was halfway up the drive before she realised that the front door was already open. Darcy stood on the doorstep, his dark hair tousled. 

“Lizzy? What are you doing here?”

Lizzy stopped dead in her tracks. This is not how it was meant to go! She was supposed to storm up to the house, bang on the front door, demand entrance and give a silent and submissive Darcy a piece of her mind, before making a dramatic exit and going to see George. 

Instead, she stood, unable to speak for some reason, a few metres away from a befuddled Darcy who was scratching the back of his head. And he didn’t look submissive at all - he looked confused, but also slightly amused. 

“I... I...” Lizzy cursed her tongue for not working. Darcy took a few steps towards her.  
“I was actually on my way to your flat to, um, apologise for last night.” 

Lizzy blinked. “Apologise?” she repeated dumbly.  
“Yes. The confrontation?”

Darcy looked so helpless, so ready to supply an apology, that Lizzy felt like slapping him. Suddenly her mouth began to work again, and she moved closer to him, her face screwed up angrily. 

“You’re apologising for the wrong thing, for fuck’s sake! I was a cow last night, we both know that, but I had every right to be when you’ve been such a, when you’re such a colossal, when you’re...” Lizzy could hardly speak, she was almost apoplectic with anger. 

Darcy blinked again, raised his eyebrows and clenched his jaw. He, as usual, set his mouth in a line, a firm sign that he was not in the mood for an argument, and this movement in particular set off something almost primal in Lizzy, making her advance even further towards him. 

“Don’t clench your jaw at me, you arrogant arsehole! I cannot believe-“

“Please enlighten me on what I am supposed to be apologising for, then, so I can say sorry and escort you out of my front garden and go about my morning in peace.”

Lizzy huffed incredulously, furious that he had cut her off. She took another step towards him, now able to look him directly in the eye from not even a foot away. 

“You know. You know what you should be apologising for.”

“If this is about what I said at the garden party, you already-“

“That, and the other things! I don’t understand why Charlie’s even friends with you after what you tried to do to him and Jane.”

“And what did I do exactly?”

“You told Charlie he shouldn’t bother with her.”

He flushed, but recovered quickly. “I thought his... affections weren’t being returned. Jane never seem overly interested in Charles. I was trying to protect him.”

Lizzy scoffed. “And how is that any of your business, Darcy? Jane hardly shows her true emotions to me, her sister! She likes Charlie, a lot, and you had no right to go meddling.”

Darcy stared her down for a split second before conceding and looking down at the patio. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise-“

“That’s the point, you hardly know her! Of course you didn’t realise that Jane likes Charlie, because you never speak to her.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Darcy had slid his eyes upwards again, his gaze resting on Lizzy’s face. For the first time, Lizzy was close enough to him that his eyes no longer looked like black, endless pools - they had flecks of gold and hazel in them, and they were staring straight into her eyes. His mouth was slightly parted, his lips full. Lizzy suddenly felt her heart speed up; her stomach flipped and lurched. 

“Darcy-“

Suddenly, his lips were on hers. He moved in so close that there was not an inch of space between their bodies - but Darcy wasn’t bracketing her, his large hands held her slim arms as he kissed her passionately. She felt dizzy, like she would fall down if he loosened his grip on her arms; her eyes shut of their own accord, and she leaned into the kiss, butterflies swooping and cartwheeling in her stomach-

No. This was wrong, so, so wrong. 

Lizzy wrenched herself free from his grasp, wiping her lips on the back of her hand. Darcy stepped backwards, looking winded. His eyes were dark black again, the pupils dilated.

“Elizabeth, I-“  
He cut himself off, suddenly self-conscious in her ominous silence. 

“I’m sorry, Lizzy. I had to. Against all my better judgement, I have... feelings. For you. I... I’ve had these feelings for a while, I never know how to truly express myself and it makes me-“

“Rude? Meddlesome? Nasty? Distant? I can keep going, really I can.”

Lizzy watched his face fall, and his hands, which had been hovering slightly in front of his body where she had wrenched herself out of his grip, dropped as well. Cutting above the blood thrumming through her veins and her pounding heart, Lizzy felt a sick thrill of pleasure at his unhappiness. 

She stepped towards him again, and this time he stepped back. The sarcasm as Lizzy spoke bit through the air around them, shooting towards Darcy like a knife. 

“I am truly, tremendously sorry to have caused you all of this trouble, all of this heartache at having feelings for me ‘against your better judgement’. Believe me, it was not intentional.”

Darcy stood stock still for a moment, then stiffened up. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you... rejecting me?”

Lizzy laughed mirthlessly. “Well, seeing as my entire character offends you so much, it shouldn’t be too much of a heavy burden to bear.”

“I’m sorry that your pride has been hurt.”

“My pride? You can stand there, Darcy, and talk about my pride?” 

She considered leaving then and there, but decided to get all of it, all of the resentment and dislike, out in his front garden on that horrific Sunday morning. 

“From the first moment I met you, you were arrogant and conceited. You have shown no care for anybody else’s feelings, you have insulted me to the highest degree behind my back, you attempted to meddle in my sister’s love life and, worst of all, you act so high and mighty, like you’re the perfect gentleman, when you know full well what you did to George Wickham.”

Throughout Lizzy’s whole speech, Darcy had been standing slightly limply, as if he had just been dealt a blow to the back of the head. But at the mention of George Wickham, he stood up to attention. His entire face closed off in a way that made a chill go down Lizzy’s spine, but she knew she had to finish. 

“You, Fitzwilliam Darcy, are the last man in the world I could ever be with.” 

Just as she had done the night before, Lizzy turned around and walked away. 

“You don’t know anything about me, Elizabeth Bennet.”

Darcy’s final remark reached her when she got to the car. She turned to look at him once more - he was stood in exactly the same position, his hands clenched by his sides. 

She got into the car. 

Lizzy felt like she might cry, or scream, or both. Instead, with shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and clicked on the contact she wanted. 

“Dad? Hi. No, nothing’s wrong. Could I, um, could I come and see you and Mum for a few days? I just need to get away for a bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst angst angst!!! 
> 
> i rewatched the 2005 film today because of course, and i knew i just had to put my own spin on the dialogue in the iconic rain scene 
> 
> hope all of you are safe and well


	14. Chapter 14

“And how are you surviving down there?”

Lizzy chuckled to the deep voice down the phone; she kept her own voice lowered so her mother wouldn’t hear and come flying in to demand who was on the phone.

“It’s actually really nice to be back with them, as much as my mother is already driving me crazy. My aunt and uncle are staying as well, so it’s a full house.” 

“Sounds lovely.”

Lizzy smiled as she rested her head against the phone that was balanced on the back of the sofa. She decided to be bold.

“I miss you.”  
“I... miss you too.”

Her smile widened. “How’s the shop?”

George Wickham cleared his throat. “It’s fine. Lottie’s in Tuesday to Saturday, as normal, and Jane pops in on Mondays when it’s just me. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been working Saturdays as well?”

“Oh, why, George? You don’t have to do that!”

“I know, but it puts my mind at rest to know that Lottie’s managing okay.”

As Lizzy went to reply, another call started coming in. Regretfully, she knew she had to end the conversation. 

“George? I have to go, Lottie’s ringing me. But it was... really nice. To catch up. And thank you for looking after the shop so well.”

“It’s my pleasure, Lizzy. Bye.”

“Goodbye.” 

He ended the call. Lizzy almost told herself off, for she couldn’t stop thinking about George Wickham. If she were thirteen, she would probably describe it as a crush, and start doodling ‘Elizabeth Wickham’ in all of her schoolbooks. Working with him at the shop was always something to look forward to, and Lizzy had felt a surge of pleasure when he expressed disappointment at her staying in Brighton. It seemed melodramatic, to travel to the seaside because of a kiss and an argument (Lizzy still felt like crying when she thought of Darcy’s hands clutching her arms so desperately) but she had decided to try and put it from her mind. That was why nobody, not even Jane, knew what had happened. Lizzy had simply returned to the flat that same day, the invisible stain of the kiss still on her trembling lips, and said that she wanted to go and visit her Mum and Dad. Jane, Lottie, Mary, and even Lydia, hungover, unobservant, brash Lydia, had known something was wrong. But nobody pressed her, and they let her pack her bags in peace. She had stayed for Jane’s birthday on Monday, which Jane insisted on spending in the shop. Lizzy had made her a special breakfast in bed, gave her the presents she had bought months previously (new watercolours, artist markers and sketch pads, as well as a couple of bottles of expensive perfume that she had seen Jane sighing over). The day had been pleasant, the four of them - Lizzy, Jane, Lottie (who came in on her day off) and George - all celebrating and laughing in the shop on shift. The day after, Lizzy had let George open the shop, coming in briefly to explain where she was going. He had frowned and hugged her, and promised to look after the shop. 

Darcy had been out the front of Pemberley’s when Lizzy went to get into the car. Their eyes met briefly, before he turned and went back into the shop. 

She didn’t get to speak to Charlie, but had told Jane to say goodbye for her. 

“How long are you actually going to stay with them for?” Jane had asked anxiously outside the shop. 

“A few days? A week at the most. I just need to clear my head a bit, get out of the shop.”

Jane had nodded understandingly, before wrapping her in a vanilla-scented hug. 

When Lizzy had arrived of outside the cottage, she barely had time before she was bombarded with hugs and exclamations from her mother and aunt, both speaking over each other in their eagerness to greet her.

“Oh, Lizzy, it’s so lovely to-“  
“Gosh, how you’ve grown! And so beautiful-“  
“You’re too skinny, Liz, I always say it! We need to get some food down you-“  
“How was your journey? I’m telling you, when we came down the motorways were backed up like you wouldn’t bel-“  
“Come in, come in! Darling, get the bags.” 

Mrs. Bennet directed this last imperious command to her husband, who had hung back with Mrs. Bennet’s older brother. Lizzy caught her father’s eye over her Aunt’s shoulder. He grinned furtively, a twinkle in his bright eyes. 

Whilst Lizzy and her mother hadn’t always seen eye to eye on most things - politics, religion, university, what Lizzy wore, how much Lizzy smoked, Lizzy taking over the shop, Lizzy not being married and with child by now - it was a novelty to see her again. To be cooked for, to be looked after, to be mothered - Lizzy hadn’t realised how much she had missed it. And the Brighton cottage really was lovely; a ten minute walk from the seafront, it was old-fashioned with its whitewashed walls, a trellis with climbing vines out the front and a real roaring fireplace in the living room. Rambling with her uncle, baking with her aunt, marvelling at her father’s library in the attic. It was all very pleasant. 

Lizzy snuggled up further under the knitted blanket on the sofa and answered the call from Lottie. 

“Hey, Lotts.”  
“Thank God, you’re alive! Is your mum alright or have you murdered her yet?”

After four days in Brighton, Lizzy and her mother had surprisingly not run into any real confrontations. Lizzy grinned and sipped her tea. 

“No, it’s actually fine between us, she’s being very lovely and we’ve decided not to talk about Brexit.”  
“That’s good, we don’t want any tables being overturned. And there’s cliffs near you, if politics comes up then at least one of you is going plunging into the sea.”

It was good to hear Lottie’s voice. Since the age of ten, the two had been inseparable; Lizzy was sure that four days had to be the longest time they had spent away from each other in years. 

“What’s new down there, then? Any customers whilst I’ve been gone or has it been business as usual?”

“Well...” Lottie pretended to consider; Lizzy could hear the smile in her voice down the phone. “It’s been fairly busy actually. Also, Mary’s crocheted me a new cardigan and it’s the talk of the town. Ah, let me think. Oh! Charlie and Jane have been on another date-“

“Oh, I know! Jane rang me.”

Jane had, in fact, rung Lizzy before and after going out with Charlie. They had gone to see some new comedy at the local cinema and dined at a “gorgeous little Vietnamese restaurant” afterwards - Lizzy would have preferred something like bowling or rollerskating for a first date any day (Jane was calling it a ‘first date’, because “our actual first date was a write-off”), but she knew that Jane would have appreciated something simple and classic. 

Lottie continued. “Yes, so they’re all loved up and disgusting, it’s quite sweet actually. Charlie’s been back in the shop quite a lot with those amazing coffees, they’re honestly the only thing getting me through.”

Lizzy couldn’t help herself. She cleared her throat before asking, “And, um. What about Darcy?”

“Darcy? Oh, he hasn’t come in at all. I went into Pemberley’s the other day to give Charlie a recipe and I saw him then. He’s actually really sweet, Liz.”

“Yeah?” Fuck.

“Yeah.” Lottie paused. “Did anything happen with you two? I mentioned that you’d gone to your parents’ for a bit and he, like, completely clammed up.”

Lizzy shut her eyes and groaned. “No. I mean, yes. But not really...”

“What happened?”

“He kissed me.”

She heard Lottie gasp. “Seriously? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“No! Because it was horrible, I shouted at him at Jane’s party, and then I left the next morning to go and shout at him some more for being such an arsehole-“

“I wondered where you’d gone. You looked like you had shell-shock when you came back.” 

“-and when we were arguing, he just... kissed me!” Although she couldn’t see Lottie, Lizzy covered her eyes in shame. “Oh, Lottie, it was horrible.”

“As in, he’s a bad kisser?”

“No! The opposite. He’s an amazing kisser. There’s been all this weird tension between us, ever since he pitched up and opened that fucking coffee shop. I know I should hate him, and I do, because of what he said about me and what he did to Jane and Charlie and how he treated George, but-“

“Oh, yeah, about that.” Lottie’s voice was suddenly serious, a sure sign that she was about to say something that required attention. “I mentioned that whole thing to Charlie, because I asked him why Darcy never comes with him to bring the coffee over anymore, and he said that he didn’t want to be around George. Obviously I know what you told me, so I didn’t have any sympathy for Darcy, but when I mentioned that to Charlie, he seemed... annoyed? I don’t know, but he wasn’t happy. He said that there’s more than meets the eye with George. And, now I think about it, Charlie’s never that friendly to him, which is weird because Charlie’s friendly to everyone.”

An odd feeling had settled in Lizzy’s stomach, almost like she’d swallowed a rock and it had settled heavily at the bottom. 

“Yeah?” Her voice cracked slightly.

“I don’t know, Liz. I know you like him, he seems like a nice guy and all and he’s good in the shop. I just can’t get what’s Charlie said out of my head.

“No, I get what you-“

“He’s quite flirty with Lydia.”

This was less worrying. “Yeah, but that’s just Lydia, isn’t it? She flirts with everyone.”

“No, I mean he’s flirty with her. Like, a lot. She’s come into the shop every day since you’ve been away to see him on his lunch break.”

The sinking feeling reappeared in Lizzy’s stomach. “Really?”

“Yeah.”  
“That’s... weird.”  
“I know. I know Lyds can look after herself, mostly, but she’s only eighteen. It’s just something to keep an eye on.”  
“And I’m assuming your eye is on it?”  
“Absolutely.” 

They eventually moved on to other topics of conversation, and by the time Lizzy ended the call, the only light in the room was coming from the fireplace. Her family had gone to bed a while ago, leaving Lizzy downstairs to amuse herself. Lizzy pulled the blanket tighter around her, feeling a sudden surge of worry. Had she been too hasty in hiring George and assuming that his story was the correct version of events? On top of that, had she been too mean to Darcy, too quick to dismiss him? 

She sat thinking, pondering and worrying for a while, until the fire died down to a few embers. Lizzy folded the blanket away and went upstairs to bed. 

*

“Elizabeth! Liz! Are you coming down for breakfast?”

Lizzy was abruptly woken up the next morning to the sound of her mother squawking up the stairs to her, accompanied with the smell of frying bacon. Lizzy stretched and yawned, hauling herself out of bed and trudging down the stairs to the kitchen. The cottage was always cold in the mornings, especially as it was almost winter, and Lizzy felt it through to her bones. 

Her father, aunt and uncle were sat around the scrubbed kitchen table with coffees whilst her mother cooked breakfast at the stove. It was a very cosy scene.

Mechanically, Lizzy went round the whole group and kissed them on the cheek before flopping down in a chair and yawning again. Her father wordlessly pushed a coffee over to her, and she smiled gratefully. Her mother was keeping up a constant, low-level babble that Lizzy was able to tune out from in order to think about when she could go back to bed. 

But, as much as she tried, she couldn’t get what Charlotte had said about George last night out of her head - “Charlie said there’s more than meets the eye with George.” What could he mean by that? 

“...Elizabeth? Are you listening?”  
“Huh, what?” Lizzy was catapulted out of her thoughts by her mother leaning over her, shaking her head; suddenly, she felt six years old again.  
“Gosh, you’re a slug in the mornings, aren’t you! I said you’ve got a letter, it’s on the counter by the front door.”  
“A letter? Are you sure it’s for me?”  
“Well, it’s got your name on the front.” 

That was definitely odd. As Lizzy padded through the hall to the front of the cottage, she went through the options of what it could be. Something about the shop? Electricity bill? A flyer from her MP? Surely, all of those would have gone straight to her flat? 

She picked up the letter from the counter and saw that it was not official-looking at all, and it didn’t have printed font on the envelope. ‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet’ was written on the front in small, looping handwriting that looked strangely familiar, followed by the cottage’s address. She opened it - for some reason her heart was beating faster - and dropped her eyes straight to the bottom. 

‘Yours, as ever,  
Darcy.’

Lizzy’s heart leapt into her mouth, and her hands involuntarily clenched around the letter, creasing the paper slightly. She suddenly felt a presence behind her.

“What is it, Lizzy?”

Mrs. Bennet was unashamedly peering over her daughter’s shoulder, desperate to read the letter. Lizzy whipped around. 

“Um, nothing. I’m just going to, uh, pop upstairs. Need a shower.”

Before her mother could reply, Lizzy had bounded up the stairs and slammed the door to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, then sat on the closed toilet lid. With shaking hands, Lizzy unfolded the letter again and prepared herself to read it in full. 

‘Dear Elizabeth,

‘I am not writing to you in order to make you feel uncomfortable, alarmed or pressured into sending a reply. I knew that if I were to text you, I wouldn’t be able to do justice to my own thoughts, and if I were to call you, you wouldn’t have picked up. I do not blame you for that, but please, I beg you, read this letter in its entirety and hear what I have to say. 

‘From the moment I met you, Jane and Charlotte, I could see, as any sane person would, that Charles was infatuated with your sister - an infatuation which I actively encouraged, for I my first impressions of Jane were that she was rather beautiful, calm and sensitive, and definitely someone who would be right for Charles. However, as we all became further acquainted, I began to believe that Jane did not return Charles’ feelings. Although they were inseparable at the garden party in the summer, her demeanour always appeared passive, almost aloof. Charles has been hurt before. All his life, he has been pushed around by the women he loves; his mother, his sister and all of his ex partners. I would be absolutely loathe to see him led on by yet another prospective girlfriend, so I believed that it was in his best interest to give my honest opinion on Jane’s feelings towards him. 

‘Since our discussion before you left for Brighton, I have realised how misguided my attempts at shielding my friend are. I have since apologised to both Jane and Charles. I shouldn’t have meddled in something that wasn’t my business - whilst my motives were pure, my actions were unacceptable. I cannot apologise enough. 

‘As for the second reason you now think negatively of me. I’m sure you’re aware of mine and George Wickham’s history - from his perspective. You may choose not to believe what I am about to tell you, that is entirely your prerogative, but I insist that you hear my side of the long, arduous story and decide for yourself.

‘Wickham grew up without a father, he abandoned him almost as soon as he was born. His mother was distant - my mother gave her as much help raising her son as possible, but Wickham’s mother was more interested in going out in the evenings than tending to her baby. So, Wickham inadvertently became part of my family, and when his mother passed away, he moved in to my family’s home. My parents both adored Wickham, for he presented himself in the best possible light at home. However, although he was my brother, I knew a different side to him. He had always enjoyed teasing other children when we were young, but this evolved into bullying and manipulation as we grew older. He snuck out at nights, unbeknownst to my parents, to go to parties and meet girls. I never told my parents because... well, because he was still one of the most important things in my life. I loved him, and I wanted to protect him; I thought he might sort himself out after a few years of mayhem. However, this was not the case.

‘Wickham grew wilder towards the end of college, dabbling in hard drugs, sleeping with girls left and right (and his taste in girls was usually a good few years younger than him). Then, a few months after we both turned eighteen, my parents passed away. Myself and my sister Georgiana, who was nine at the time, were sent to live with my great aunt. Wickham was to come with us too, but that was not to be.

‘My parents had left us equal shares of money in their wills. Before he disappeared, Wickham and I had a huge row in front of Georgiana. He accused me of trying to get rid of him, when in fact all I wanted was to make sure he was safe living with us at my great aunt’s house. He threatened to go and live on the streets, homeless, penniless, and let himself die in the gutter. He said that the money my parents had left wasn’t sufficient, and he accused me of having more money squirrelled away. I took pity on him, and I gave him some of my share of my parent’s savings. He promised to pay me back... but the next morning, he had gone, taking his belongings and a few of mine. 

‘Over the next few years, I found out from asking around that he had joined the army. He was kicked out for inappropriate behaviour - drinking excessively, assaulting officers and sergeants. He began a degree, but dropped out halfway through, spending the next few years drifting around, moving in and out of various jobs. I vowed to forget about him, so he was rarely on my mind. I had to focus on protecting my sister, helping to raise her. I couldn’t even manage that, as it turns out. 

‘When Georgiana turned sixteen, she became secretive. My sister and I, despite our age difference, have always been close. I have always protected and looked after her, and in return she had never kept anything from me - until then. She began staying out late on the weekends, coming home late from school. By this time I had my own flat where she lived with me, and I was able to support us both by holding down three jobs. I was so distracted with the amount of work I was doing, I hardly noticed how secretive she was being until Charles mentioned it one day. I confronted Georgiana, and she shouted at me; my sister had never shouted at me before.

‘It was a low thing to do, but I felt it was in my duty as a brother and my sister’s primary carer: myself and Charles followed her after school one day. I was led to a park, where she was with none other than George Wickham. By this time he was almost twenty five. I felt my blood boil as he leaned in to kiss her, my sixteen year old sister. My rage overtook me, and I attacked him, Charles had to hold me back. Georgiana was sobbing, telling me to leave him alone. I told Wickham if I ever saw him go near my sister again, I would kill him. 

‘I am sorry, Elizabeth, to have dropped this entire story on you so suddenly and harshly, but I believe that you have a right to know. It is a faithful narrative and I hope it will help you to understand why my attitude is so cold towards Wickham. I implore you, do not believe his falsities. Ask Charles, or even Caroline (if you can bear her presence) and they will support my story in full. 

‘I hope that you have not left Bristol entirely on my account but, if that is the case, I cannot apologise enough.

‘Yours, as ever,  
Darcy’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow that’s a long letter... maybe now lizzy will re-evaluate some of her actions! 
> 
> i just wanted to quickly say, the amount of lovely comments and constructive feedback i’ve had on this story is insane, i never expected anyone to actually read it, so the fact that so many people are enjoying this little fic is amazing to me. 
> 
> i know that these are unprecedented and weird times, so i hope you’re all staying safe and healthy, and hopefully this fic can help to cheer you up a bit


	15. Chapter 15

Over one hundred miles away from Elizabeth, Darcy smiled wanly at the customer who was just leaving Pemberley’s, but immediately frowned again as the door shut behind her. He couldn’t get Lizzy out of his mind. His face, screwed up with anger, had melted in and out of his dreams for the last four nights, occasionally swirling into the same expression he had been so shocked to see on Georgiana’s face when he told her she couldn’t see Wickham again.

She was only a kid then, Gee had no comprehension of the manipulation she was under. She didn’t know that Wickham was using her, and had, for a long time, refused to accept that her brother was protecting her. 

He felt a hand clap him on the shoulder and jumped. 

“You alright, Darce?”

Charlie stood beside him, his glasses slightly askew as he began making an iced latte. He was wearing that concerned, pitiful expression on his face that made Darcy grit his teeth. 

“I’m fine, Charlie.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows.

“Stop looking at me like that, okay? I’m fine!”

“Okay, okay! I’m not even looking at you.”

Against his better judgement, Darcy couldn’t help but chuckle as Charlie shielded his eyes over-exaggeratedly. 

“Caroline will be back in London by now, won’t she?”

“Yeah, thank God.” Charlie shook his head. “I know she’s my sister, but bloody hell. I thought she’d never leave. I can finally breathe again.”

“You’re telling me. At least she’s stopped cornering me in empty rooms.”

“Who corners you in empty rooms?” Georgiana was suddenly stood in front of them on the other side of the counter, grinning. Her face had lost some of its deep tan, and her hair was shorter. 

“Caroline.” Charlie said grimly, passing her the drink he had been making. “I think she’s finally given up on seducing Darcy, only took her almost thirty years. Hey, why do you look different?”

“Got my hair cut.” Georgiana swished her head back and forth, showing off her new bob. “Like it?”

“Yeah, you look older, pipsqueak.”

Georgiana stuck her tongue out at Charlie, then turned to her brother. “Will? Can I talk to you?”

“Uh, yeah. Charlie, I’m taking lunch.” 

Charlie waved vaguely in approval as he served a new customer. 

Darcy followed Georgiana out to the front of the shop, where they sat at one of the few unoccupied tables. It was cold and slightly windy, and Darcy blew into his hands to warm them up before speaking to his sister. 

“You okay, Gee?”

Georgiana wasted no time in her answer.  
“I saw you and that Lizzy outside the house the other night.”

Darcy felt his stomach lurch slightly. “What did you see?” 

Georgiana was deliberately avoiding his gaze, fiddling with the ends of her newly short hair. “Um, everything. I heard someone shouting outside, so I, uh, looked through the window. And I saw you both stood there, arguing. Then I saw you, um, kiss her.” Darcy’s face was flaming. As much as Georgiana obviously felt embarrassed and was talking like a child, Darcy was sure that her humiliation was no match for his. He fidgeted in his chair. 

“Yeah? Why are you bringing this up now?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, Will. I could tell you didn’t want to talk about it afterwards.”  
“Oh. Right. Well, I’m sorry you had to see that.”  
“It’s fine.” She finally met his gaze. “What were you arguing about?”  
“Oh, nothing...”  
“Will.” Georgiana’s grey eyes looked into her brother’s fiercely. “No secrets.” 

Darcy sighed. “I told you we had a confrontation at Jane’s party, didn’t I? I tried to speak to her then and straighten things out about George, but she was a bit drunk I think, and still angry, so she didn’t want to discuss it. Then she drove round the morning after, when I was literally on my way out of the house to go to her flat and talk to her. She looked a mess, I won’t lie, but I was still happy to see her.” He paused and frowned. “I don’t really know what I was expecting. I knew she was still angry at me, and to an extent I think she was right. But when she was shouting at me in the front garden, it just seemed like she was angry for the sake of it. I... I couldn’t help myself. I was so mad, and so full of these... these feelings, I couldn’t not kiss her.”

“She pulled away, didn’t she?”

“Eventually. But, for a moment, it was almost like... we were a couple, like the kiss was from both of us. And I didn’t imagine it, Lizzy leaned in, she kissed me back. Then, well. You know what happened.”

“Well, I don’t, I didn’t hear anything apart from garbled shouting. What did you say to her, Will? What did she say?”

Darcy was miserable in his uncomfortableness. “Um... before I kissed her, I confessed how I felt. And, I don’t think I phrased it very well.”

Georgiana narrowed her eyes. “How did you say it.”

“I said that I had feelings for her... against all my better judgement.”

Darcy certainly felt a different kind of judgement radiating from his sister as she shook her head. “For goodness’ sake Will.”

“And then she said I’m the last person she could ever be with.”

Georgiana’s frustration was overtaken by an expression of pity. “I’m sorry, Will.”

“It’s fine. With what she thinks she knows about me, I can see why she’s angry.”

“Do you know what George has told her?”

“Not precisely, but I can guess. And Charlie told me that Lottie from across the road mentioned it. Obviously, Wickham hasn’t spoken very favourably of me.”

Georgiana tutted and shook her head bitterly, looking away, an expression that reminded Darcy of just how grown up his baby sister was. “Typical. I bet he’s lied through his teeth.”

“Most likely.”

Suddenly, she turned back to him, her eyes bright. “Why don’t you text her! Or call, or even send a letter?”  
“Gee-“  
“No, Will, you have to! You have to explain!”  
“Georgi-“  
“Elizabeth deserves to know the truth, if you like her this much and you think there’s even a hint that she feels the same under all that stupid, misplaced anger!”  
“Georgiana!” Darcy raised his voice and cut across her, smiling despite himself. “I’ve already written to her.”

“Oh.” Georgiana sat back, looking slightly sheepish. “Great.”

“In fact, the letter will have probably reached her by now. It’s up to her whether she believes me or not.” 

*

Lizzy’s mouth felt numb after reading Darcy’s letter in its entirety down the phone to Jane. She had managed to avoid going out on what would have been a very chilly walk on the beach with her family, instead insisting that she was too tired and that she would rather go back to bed for a bit. Ignoring her mother’s grumbles, Lizzy had immediately ran back upstairs, where she had locked the bedroom door and rung Jane. 

“Gosh.” Jane’s voice was quietly shocked. “I... gosh.”

Lizzy was pacing her tiny room, hardly able to avoid the clothes that that were crumpled on the floor, spilling out of her suitcase. “So? What, what do I even do with this information?”

“You should apologise.”

Lizzy stopped pacing. “Do you believe Darcy?”

“I think so.” Jane’s responses were so simple, they helped to calm Lizzy’s nerves slightly. “I find it hard to believe that he would fabricate such a story about his own sister.”

“But George would?”

“Liz, think about it. We hardly know George, we don’t know any of his friends or anything about his life outside of working at the shop. At least we know Darcy marginally better, we definitely know Charlie well. We even know Caroline, unfortunately. If Darcy was lying, I’m sure one of them would out him.” 

In any other scenario, Lizzy would have poked fun at Jane’s mildly mean jab towards Caroline. However, all she could do was sit on the edge of her bed and bite her nails worriedly.

“Oh, God. I’ve been a cow. Why did I believe George?”

“Liz, don’t beat yourself up. Look, you’ve been a bit harsh towards Darcy, but it’s not a huge deal-“

“Jane. He kissed me and I told him he’s the last person I could ever be him. I called him arrogant and rude and meddlesome, I did everything but spit on him!” 

The silence from Jane’s end of the line conveyed her disapproval; Lizzy could almost hear her lips purse as she spoke.

“Well, then. I think you definitely need to apologise. Liz... do you like Darcy?”

Lizzy rubbed a hand over her eyes tiredly. “I’ve spent so long being angry at him that I don’t even know.”

“I think you do know.”

Lizzy definitely knew, and she knew that Jane, as usual, was right. When she had first met Darcy, the attraction was obviously there; she remembered Lottie making fun of her for staring at his hands as he brooded outside the coffee shop, before it had even become Pemberley’s. Of course, he was absolutely gorgeous. But then she had been turned off by his rudeness, his surly and offhand demeanour. Now she thought about it...

“Maybe he was just shy.”

Jane hummed down the phone. “I think that what Darcy said about you at the garden party was horrible. But I also think, and don’t bite my head off, Lizzy. I think you might have judged him too harshly. Sure, he wasn’t the most forthcoming person, but that doesn’t mean he’s evil at all. I think you need to take some time to consider everything you know about him and sort out your actual feelings towards him, then maybe try to talk to him. You don’t have to profess your love to him or anything, nobody’s forcing you to do that. But try and figure out what you want, and what you truly believe about his character. This will all turn out okay, if you just stop and think about it for a bit.” 

Lizzy didn’t answer. Jane’s voice came through the phone again.

“Did you kiss him back?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

She needed to speak to him, as soon as possible. And, unfortunately, Lizzy knew that she needed to make a decision about George Wickham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise, another chapter! 
> 
> FINALLY some self-reflection and realisation from lizzy 
> 
> i hope you’re all ready for wickham to get the bollocking of a lifetime in a chapter or two
> 
> as usual, hope all of you lovelies are well
> 
> p.s. omg i’ve only just noticed that the original tags said lizzy has a coffee shop and darcy has a bookshop. duh! sorry, didn’t even realise!!


	16. Chapter 16

Longbourne Fam

Liz: On my way home now, will be back in work tomorrow 

Jane: Are you texting and driving?? X

Liz: no i’m at a service station

Jane: Okay, phew! See you at home. Xx

Lottie: omg finally, i’ll pop in to see u at lunch time 

George: Can’t wait :) x 

Lizzy looked accusingly at the little kiss from George. All of a sudden, those x’s that he was so fond of using when writing texts to Lizzy seemed malevolent rather than charming. She shoved her phone back in her pocket, quickly finished her cigarette and climbed back in the car, setting off along the quiet motorway. 

Darcy’s letter was sat, folded and unassuming, carefully placed on top of hastily crumpled clothes in Lizzy’s suitcase, which was shoved in the boot of the car. Lizzy had read it over and over the day before, until she knew parts of it off by heart. As she drove, different sections of the letter seemed to swirl around in her mind.

‘Whilst my motives were pure, my actions were unacceptable...’

‘This evolved into bullying and manipulation...’

‘If I ever saw him go near my sister again, I would kill him...’

‘Yours, as ever, Darcy.’ 

Five days in Brighton would have already been more than enough for Lizzy, who was starting to feel the usual irritation towards her nosey mother creeping in, so the letter gave her a perfect excuse to go back home. Lizzy had told her parents that she needed to get back to the shop, before promptly packing her single bag. She had kissed her mother, father, aunt and uncle goodbye on Sunday morning and, with her arms full of parting gifts of cake, books and new underwear, climbed into her rickety old car. 

Lizzy reached over to the passenger seat and picked up her Starbucks cup, wedged firmly into a small coffee tray. She sipped and then grimaced; nowhere near as good, nor as strong, as the Pemberley’s cappuccinos. She looked resentfully at her phone, which sat on the dashboard, connected to the car’s bluetooth; Lizzy knew she had to make a call before talking to George. That same morning, she had received a text from Jane, asking her to talk to Lydia. Charlotte had apparently relayed to Jane the same information about George and Lydia, and the eldest Bennet sister felt at a loss for what to do. So, Lizzy was bearing the burden of trying to advise her youngest sister, which historically never ended well. A brief incident flashed into Lizzy’s mind from a few years back, when she had gently suggested to Lydia that her foundation may be slightly too dark for her skin tone. The entire household had taken at least a week to recover from the countless arguments, tantrums, door-slammings and flouncings that Lydia inflicted on everyone, especially Elizabeth. 

But, as much as she was loathe to talk to her sister, Lizzy couldn’t help but remember what Darcy had said about George and Georgiana. Lydia was only two years older than Georgiana had been at that time. Lizzy knew she couldn’t take any chances. 

The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity before Lydia deigned to answer, her voice suddenly filling up the whole car. 

“God, are you still in Brighton? Has mummy ordered me that new laptop yet?”  
“Hello to you too, Lydia.” Lizzy spoke through gritted teeth. She in fact knew that Mr. Bennet had cancelled the order Mrs. Bennet had placed for Lydia’s laptop, because Lydia was “too spoilt for her own good”, and was yet to tell his wife - and Lizzy was not about to break that news herself.

“Um, I don’t know.”  
“Oh, for- I’ll text her later, God, why does nobody ever do anything I ask?”

The temptation to simply end the call was almost too overwhelming for Lizzy - but, despite everything, Lizzy loved her youngest sister dearly, and knew she wanted to protect her. 

“Lyds, I’m in the car, I can’t talk for very long, I just need to-“

“Oh, great, are you back in the shop tomorrow? I’ll probably see you, I’m going to pop in.”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about, Lydia.”

“About the shop?” Lydia snorted; she sounded like she was chewing something as she spoke. Lizzy barely suppressed an eye roll as her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

“No, about why you’re coming into the shop so much.”

“What are you on about? I always come into the shop.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve seen Darcy in there more than you, and he’s avoiding me like the plague.”

“Oh, fuck him.” Lydia’s voice crackled with poor connection, but the venom in her words was unmissable. “George has told me what a bastard he is.”

“Lydia! That’s why I need to speak to you. It’s about George.” 

Lydia sighed, a sound that would make any third party assume that she was some sort of long-suffering, down on her luck war widow, when in fact she was an insufferable eighteen-year-old who historically never knew when to listen to good advice. “What about George?” she said petulantly; Lizzy could definitely hear her eating something, and her voice sounded fainter, almost as if she was moving further away from the phone. Lizzy rubbed a hand over her forehead and continued.

“I think you’re seeing George too much.”  
“What? Why?” Lydia’s voice sounded alarmingly close again, suggesting that she had run back over the phone. 

Lord give me strength, Lizzy thought abstractly. “I know I haven’t been there, but someone-“  
“Jane.”  
“-someone said they thought that you and George are... flirting. And someone also maybe said-“  
“Charlotte.”  
“-that George might not be everything he’s cracked up to be.” 

Lydia huffed down the phone. Lizzy focused on not crashing her car as she rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Look, no offence, Elizabeth,” Lydia spoke her sister’s name with enough venom to kill an army. “But I didn’t really ask for your opinion. George and I aren’t doing anything wrong, like, at all! All I do is come to see him in the shop.”  
“Well-“  
“And we’ve gone for a couple of drinks in the last few days.”  
“Lydia! He’s thirty years old!”  
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Lizzy, it isn’t like we’ve done anything. He said he’s going to show me his home gym so I can work on becoming a personal trainer.”  
“I thought you were going to be a psychiatrist?”  
“Look, I have to go, I have shit to do. Just get off my back, okay?”  
“Lydia!” 

She had put the phone down, filling the car with the sound of the cut off line.

“Shit!” Lizzy hit the steering wheel, then immediately regretted it when pain flared into the palm of her hand. She checked the satnav. Another hour of driving ahead of her. 

*

Jane checked the last message that popped up in the Longbourne group chat, from George: ‘Can’t wait :) x’

She sighed and put her phone, face down, on the coffee table. “I just can’t believe what he’s done.”

Charlie blinked. “It’s all true, Jane, I promise.”

“No, I know! I’m not doubting you for a second, I’m really not. I just can’t comprehend how someone can be that awful.” 

Charlie ruffled his hair, which was already sticking up slightly, a habit he had when he was nervous, and readjusted his glasses. “It’s just a horrible coincidence that Liz hired him across the road from us.”

Jane sighed again and placed her cool palms against her burning cheeks. She couldn’t decide if she was flushed with anxiety or because of the company in her living room. 

Jane Bennet never acted on whims. Unlike Lizzy, who acted impulsively and often recklessly, Jane never allowed her heart to rule over her head. Her decision making was impeccable, her organisation skills were unmatched, and the logic she used to walk herself through every possible scenario in any situation ruled supreme. 

However, on this cold, sunny, early Sunday afternoon, Charles Bingley was sat in her living room, a faint smudge of Jane’s pink lipstick staining his lips. And Jane for the life of her couldn’t think where the logic she knew and relied upon had failed her. 

Lizzy had texted the Longbourne chat very early that morning announcing that she was coming home; Jane had expected a text of her own to pop up, explaining her reasoning to just her, but all Lizzy had to say had gone to the small group. She hadn’t even replied to Jane’s text asking her to talk to Lydia.  
Jane had a feeling that she was right in assuming Darcy’s letter had something to do with her sister’s quick decision. Jane had sat in the kitchen, biting her nails instead of getting through the the commissions that were piled in her studio. She had desperately wanted somebody there with her, just to talk to, not necessarily about Darcy or George - but just someone to keep her company whilst she worried about her sisters. 

Almost without realising, Jane had found herself texting Charlie, who had raced round immediately. If it had been a Friday, and the evening, and if Jane had been wearing something sexy and had a glass of wine in her hand, then it may have looked like what she had heard Lydia call a ‘booty call’. Instead, it was almost noon on a Sunday, and Jane was wearing leggings and an old cardigan, and was boiling the kettle for two cups of tea when she opened the apartment door to Charlie. 

He had arrived with a rush of cold air blowing into the flat behind him, his ginger hair ruffled from the choppy breeze, and his pale skin flushed. Jane had felt her own face heating up - the only time Charlie had been in her flat was during the party, when alcohol was involved and lots of other people were there to ease the tension. Now, they were alone. She had given herself a pep talk whilst making the drinks, leaving Charlie to sit nervously on the edge of the sofa.

“You’re twenty eight, Jane, not sixteen. It’s perfectly normal to invite a man whom you’ve been on one and a half dates with round to your flat to drink tea. You are an adult.” 

But Jane’s stern words to herself had not stopped her hand from shaking slightly as she passed a steaming mug to Charlie, not had it soothed the heat creeping its way up her neck into her face. Charlie had also, she noticed, showed signs of nervousness. Wrinkling his nose, fluffing his hair, twisting his fingers together. 

He had sipped his tea when it was far too hot, and had obviously tried not to show that his tongue was burnt - his eyes had began watering profusely and he coughed, embarrassed. Jane had felt something wash over her as she noticed the freckles dotting his neck. She had leaned in and kissed him. 

It had not gone past anything more than a few gentle kisses, a hand on her knee, a caress of his face. But Jane had felt some sort of weight lift off her chest, something she hadn’t even realised she was carrying around with her. It was just... nice. Nice to have Charlie smile against her lips, his mouth hot and tasting like the ginger tea she had brewed for him. Nice to feel his large hand resting on her leg, nice to hold her own hand against his warm, angular face, nice to feel like someone wanted to be close to her, to share body contact. 

And now, here they were. Sitting entwined in the pleasant, warm, slightly embarrassing post-kiss atmosphere. Jane had to admit, talking about George Wickham wasn’t exactly her idea of sexy, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she could definitely wait to have sex with Charlie. Jane knew it would happen, she just absolutely knew, but it wasn’t going to happen on a Sunday morning when her sister could walk into the flat at any moment. 

She looked again at her phone from where her head was resting on Charlie’s chest; Jane smiled to herself - she could hear Charlie’s heart beating very fast. But she soon frowned again when there was no text from Lizzy to open. Charlie’s voice sounded lower than usual as it rumbled through his chest. 

“Do you think Liz is going to keep George on at the shop?”  
“I doubt it. Not if she believes you and Darcy.” Jane moves herself up, looking straight int Charlie’s hazel eyes. “She might be rash and hotheaded, and possibly slightly too judgemental, but Lizzy has the strongest moral compass of anyone I know, and I really don’t think she’ll want someone like George working at her shop.” She looked down. “It’s too special to her. She won’t want it tainted by him.” 

The door banged open and the pair sprang apart, immediately catching each other’s eyes and grinning foolishly at their teenage reactions. 

“Just me!”

Lizzy trundled through the apartment, dragging a suitcase behind her, not even looking into the living room. “God, I’m starving. Anything in?”

Charlie, ever the gentleman, leapt up and grabbed Lizzy’s case. “Let me get that, Liz.”  
“Bing!” Lizzy smiled and hugged her friend, before registering that he was actually in her flat. “What are you-“

She looked at Jane, who was stood sheepishly by the front door that Lizzy had left open. She widened her eyes as a signal to not make a big deal. Lizzy grinned slyly. 

“Ah. Okay. I get it. Sorry, am I interrupting?” She could have burst out laughing at how quickly the pair blushed, Charlie’s face looking especially fluorescent under his shock of red hair. He began stammering our a response, following Lizzy into the kitchen. 

“Liz, I, um, I, I was only round to, to, uh, I was-“  
“Bing! Relax, okay?” Lizzy began rooting through the kitchen cupboards, still grinning. Jane joined the two, shaking her head at Lizzy’s pleasure. “You’re both adults, do what you want. Just stay out of my room, yeah?”

Charlie blushed deeply yet again. Just as Jane was about to offer Lizzy a cup of tea and ask about Brighton, Lizzy’s phone began ringing.  
“Fuck, I still can’t change that song- oh.”

The three looked down at the screen on the phone that sat buzzing on the counter. George Wickham. 

Charlie tutted. Jane sighed. Lizzy turned her phone over decisively. 

“We’ll work it out tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry for the late upload! i’ve been super busy recently 
> 
> yay charlie and jane content!! i love writing those two nervous lovelies 
> 
> again, hope you’re all safe and well x


	17. Chapter 17

A few days passed uneventfully, but not without an undercurrent of discomfort for Lizzy. She returned to work on the Monday after receiving a text that same morning from George, telling her he wasn’t well and wouldn’t able to make it into his shift. She had replied bluntly and immediately switched off her phone after sending the message, grumpily opening a box of new orders and trying not to speculate on why George actually wasn’t in the shop. The Emporium was mercifully not very busy that day, so Lizzy had coped just fine, with a bit of help from Lottie who popped in over lunch for a catch up and a bitching session about George. 

Tuesday afternoon. Lizzy stirred her tea morosely and watched Lottie wrestle with a new poster advertising some new crime thriller series that had just been published. She risked a glance over to Pemberley’s, but could barely see through the steamed up windows. A tall, dark figure was leaning over a table packed with people. Lizzy squinted.

“Are you trying to burn a hole through his trousers?”

Lottie appeared in front of her, red in the face after her battle mounting the huge poster on the wall, her curly hair standing on end. Lizzy tutted and deliberately turned her back on the window, leaning her elbows on the counter she stood behind.

“No. Shut up.”  
“Have you spoken to him yet?”

Lottie had been appropriately aghast when Lizzy had shown her the letter, simultaneously triumphant in her newfound dislike of George and shocked at his disgusting previous behaviour. Lottie also, after almost two decades of being Lizzy’s best friend, had a seemingly psychic ability to read Lizzy’s mind, often to her disgruntlement. Before Lizzy could reply, Lottie raised her eyebrows.

“I know you haven’t because you would have told me or Jane. Liz, you need to talk to him.”  
“I know.” Lizzy sipped her tea miserably. “I know, I know. I really don’t want to.”  
“Yes you do.” Lottie replied simply. She looked around, realised there were no customers, and continued in her normal tone. “Look, as much as you might hate to admit it, I think you’ve always had a thing for Darcy. And obviously now you know that he isn’t a complete tool, there isn’t really anything stopping you from pursuing it.”

Lizzy considered this. All of the aggravation she felt towards Darcy, her hurt pride and the general feelings of resentment that cropped up when she thought of him, had seemingly disappeared. Then the cursed memory of the kiss and the argument resurfaced again, and she groaned. “I was so awful to him though, Lottie! I wouldn’t be surprised if he absolutely hated me now.” 

“Well. That’s not what I’ve heard.”

This piqued Lizzy’s interest enough for her to raise her head up out of its miserable position. “Heard? What have you heard? From who?”

Lottie simply grinned. Lizzy put her mug down and walked around the counter towards her; Lottie began backing away.

“Lottie. Lottie, fuck, come here! Tell me!”

Giggling manically, Lottie began sprinting around the tiny shop, Lizzy hot on her heels. Lizzy grabbed her best friend around the waist whilst she struggled. “Charlotte! Tell me what you’ve-“

The bell on the door rang out. The pair sprang apart, Lottie almost falling on the floor when Lizzy let go of her waist. 

George Wickham darkened the doorway to the shop, his brown hair blown about his face by the wind that was whipping outside. Lizzy felt a strange sensation come over her, like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water at her. George stepped into the shop and smiled easily, putting his messenger bag down. 

“Hi girls. Having fun?” Something about the way he smiled that probably would have endeared him to Lizzy a mere two days ago, now seemed... malevolent. Sinister. Creepy, at the very least. Flushed, she patted down her hair whilst Lottie straightened her clothes. Wordlessly, Lottie looked at Lizzy and walked away to the back office - Lizzy knew this meant that she had to deal with George. 

He had been busying himself in the time it took Lottie to pull a face at Lizzy and leave, checking the till and logging on to the system to check the orders. Lizzy spoke, and her voice hardly sounded like her own. The shop was quiet as the speaker crackled slightly. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be in today?”  
“Hm?” George looked at her distractedly.   
“You were sick.”  
“Oh, yes. Well, I still am feeling a bit under the weather, but I figured there’s no point wallowing in bed another day.”

Lizzy looked at his face. He looked the same as he always did, too handsome and too perfect. He didn’t look sick at all. George’s smile faltered slightly as Lizzy continued looking at him.

“You okay, Liz?”

Lizzy looked at his hands. They were large, placed flat on the desk by the computer. She saw one of them holding Georgiana’s hand. Lydia’s hand. Cupping Lydia’s jaw as he tipped her head back to kiss her. Sliding up her leg ever so slightly. 

“George?”  
“Yes?”

He had shaken his head and turned his attention back to the computer, but now looked at her again, slightly irritably. For a moment, Lizzy wondered whether what she was about to say was the right thing. Then the contents of Darcy’s letter swam their way to the forefront of her mind again, and she steeled herself. 

“You’re fired.”

Lottie gasped faintly from behind a shelf. George stood up to attention, his brows knitted darkly over his eyes. 

“What?”

As he spoke, he took a step around the counter. Lizzy didn’t move, rooted to the spot; her throat felt tight.

“You’re fired.” She repeated, her voice slightly louder. 

George’s face, usually so smooth and handsome, twisted into an ugly expression. “You’re joking?”  
“No.”  
“You’re... serious?”  
“That is generally what someone means when they say they aren’t joking.” Lizzy let her voice drip with sarcastic venom, even though her heart was beating so fast it felt like it might come out of her chest. “I’m deadly serious.” 

The air in the shop felt close, tight. Lizzy heard an infinitesimal movement from behind a bookshelf, and knew that Lottie was there if anything were to turn nasty. One look at George’s screwed-up expression told Lizzy that things could easily go awry. He stepped towards her again, his teeth gritted and fists clenched.

“Might I ask why?”

Lizzy wrenched her feet off the floor and stood up to her full height, looking him straight in the eye.

“You know why.” 

George blinked.

“I’m severing your pay. Get out of my shop.” 

“Liz-“

“Now.” 

George’s face, rather than turn red with embarrassment, had blanched. He picked up the bag he had put down only moments before; Lizzy felt Lottie’s comforting presence behind her. 

George shook his head and chuckled humourlessly. “I guess Darcy’s got to you, then?”

Lizzy didn’t reply, just looked at the tall man in front of her. Strangely, his voice was calm and measured - it was frankly terrifying. He continued, his blue eyes narrowed.

“And I’m guessing this is all because you have a little schoolgirl crush on him?” He sneered nastily. “You’re welcome to each other. I just hope you know that he’s laughing at you. I know Darcy, and I know his type, and it’s certainly not penniless, foul-mouthed, gobby bitches who think they’re above everyone. You’re nothing but a passing fancy for him, Jane as well. He’s going to make you fall in love with him, fuck you, then leave you by yourself. Just wait, Elizabeth. Just you fucking wait.” 

George spat on the shop floor and slammed his way out of the building. 

“That went well- Jesus Christ, Liz!”

Lizzy’s knees suddenly gave way, as if someone had knocked them with a hammer. Lottie scrambled to hold her up; Lizzy’s head felt like it was filled with cotton wool.

“Come on, up we get, come on.” Lottie supported Lizzy into the back room and gently pushed her into a chair, holding her palm against her forehead.

“God, you’re clammy. Look, I’ll make you a nice cup of tea, just relax.” 

As Lottie bustled around, filling the kettle and searching for camomile tea, Lizzy laid her head on the table. Did all of that really just happen?

She shut her eyes, but instead of seeing darkness, Darcy’s face looked back at her, his eyes dark, his mouth set in its usual firm line. Lizzy knew she had done the right thing, but how could she face Darcy now? How could she even begin to explain herself, or apologise for how she had behaved? She heard some murmurs form outside of the office but kept her head down, breathing deeply.

And... what if George was right? What if Darcy, after confessing his feelings, had suddenly come to his senses? What if he saw Lizzy simply as a headstrong, judgemental girl, far below his social status? 

“Elizabeth?”

She screwed her eyes up even more, waiting for his voice to leave her head. The tabletop was cool against her cheek. 

“Lizzy? Are you okay?”

Lizzy raised her head, a few strands of her hair stuck to her flushed cheek.

Darcy sat in front of her. Not in her imagination, the real Fitzwilliam Darcy was sat on the edge of a dilapidated chair in the back office of Lizzy’s shop, a look of concern etched onto his face. She looked down at his right hand, which was stretched out towards her across the table. He quickly put it in his lap and cleared his throat. 

“I, um. I saw Wickham leaving the shop in some sort of hurry. He looked furious. I thought I would come and see if you and Charlotte are okay.” 

Lizzy realised her mouth was hanging open but she was yet to say anything. The blood had thankfully come back to her head and the room was no longer spinning. 

“I...” Her voice was cracked. “He’s fired. I just fired George.” 

Darcy blinked once, twice. He looked down at his entwined hands, then back up at Lizzy. He wasn’t smiling, far from it, but something in his eyes let Lizzy know that she had done the right thing. 

“Good. I mean... I’m glad.” He cleared his throat and looked around nervously. “How was Brighton?”

Was he really attempting small talk? 

“Lovely, thank you.”  
“And your family are well, I hope?”  
Lizzy almost felt like laughing at how desperately polite he was being.   
“Yes. They’re very well.”   
“I’m glad.”  
“Has the... has the shop been very busy today?”  
“No, not particularly. How about Pemberley’s?”  
“The same as usual.”  
“Ah.”

The silence was heavy, but quickly broken again by Darcy. “And your, um, your parents? Are they well?”  
“Yes, Darcy. Very well.”  
“I’m glad.” 

Bless him. Lizzy watched him struggle for a second before he spoke again, averting his gaze slightly. “Elizabeth, I’m sorry for what I told you about how I felt, it was inappropriate to-“

“No, Darcy. Don’t apologise. I’m sorry.”

Lizzy couldn’t ignore the heaviness in her heart when he said ‘how I felt’. Maybe his affections had moved on already, like George said they would.

Darcy looked as if he was about to protest her apology, but Lizzy cut across, speaking quickly before she could chicken out. 

“I’ve been vile, I’ve been truly awful to you. I... I’d really like to be your friend.”

Darcy looked at her. The last time Lizzy had been this close to him, he had kissed her. She could see those same flecks of gold in his eyes that she had noticed before. Finally, he smiled gently. 

“Yes. I’d like to be friends, Lizzy.” 

What sounded very much like a box crashing to the floor made both of them jump to their feet. Lizzy didn’t miss the way that Darcy immediately held his hands out towards her, just in case she should fall again. They walked out into the shop to see a very disgruntled Charlotte sat among a pile of books. 

“Box fell.” She grunted pointlessly. Lizzy chuckled, but stopped when Lottie shot her an angry gaze. Darcy had already bent down to help pick up the fallen paperbacks, so Lizzy joined. 

She spied a book out of the corner of her eye that had skittered along the floor under a shelf. Lizzy picked it up and blew the dust off it. It was ‘Absalom, Absalom!’

Lizzy’s mind jumped back to the day after the garden party, when she had berated Darcy after he said he wasn’t a fan of Faulkner. She smiled to herself and turned to him, holding out the book. 

“What’s this?” He took it gingerly, smiling slightly. Lottie was still grumbling to herself, but Lizzy barely heard her. 

“I remember you said you didn’t like Faulkner.”  
“Ah, I didn’t-“  
“Take this. Read it, see if you change your mind.”

Darcy didn’t insist on paying - Lizzy guessed he must have known that she would have refused his money. He simply smiled and put the small paperback in his back trouser pocket. 

“Thank you.” 

*

Much later that evening, Lizzy watched Jane smile at her phone screen, the light illuminating her beautiful face in the dimly-lit living room. 

“Who you texting?” Lizzy teased her sister, poking her arm with her bare toe. Jane flushed, which confirmed Lizzy’s suspicion.

“Ah. I see. Lover boy.”  
“I wish you wouldn’t call him that!” Jane’s frustrated tone was completely juxtaposed by the radiant smile on her face. She put her phone down and picked up the wine bottle on the coffee table in front of them, re-filling both of their empty glasses. The flat was cosy; the wind outside was still up, whipping around the windows and groaning, but the interior of the small apartment was warm and hospitable. Jane and Lizzy shared a big knitted blanket, courtesy of Mary. 

Lizzy yawned sleepily before checking her watch. “God, it’s midnight already. Remember when that wasn’t late to us? We’d be off into town at this time, then be out until four in the morning. I feel so old.”

“Oh, don’t you go on about being old. I’m thirty in two years!”

“Janie, that isn’t old and you know it. Plus, you’re always going to look like you drink from the fountain of youth on the daily. Those are Lottie’s words, not mine, by the way.” 

Jane chuckled gently and lay her head on the back of the sofa, looking warmly at her sister. “I’m glad you fired George, Liz.”

“Me too. God, me too. Lyds won’t be happy, but it’s for the best.” 

“And I bet you’re glad you got to talk to Darcy finally.” 

“I am.” And Lizzy really was glad. She felt like she could stand up straight again, like the big cloud of misery and anger that had been pressing over her was lifted. Even if Darcy didn’t feel the same way as he did before, friends was... good. She smiled. “We’re friends now. It’s all sorted.”

She shut her eyes, letting the drowsiness from the day wash over her. The warmth of the apartment seemed to seep into her bones; Jane’s presence next to her on the sofa made her feel safe. Everything finally felt like it was going well. 

The phone on the stand by the television rang harshly, snapping Lizzy out of her reverie. Jane lifted her head, looking at Lizzy quizzically. “Who would call at this time?”

Lizzy didn’t reply, but got up and picked up the phone. 

“Hello? Liz? Jane? Are you there? Oh, God-“

“Kitty?” 

Kitty’s voice was loud down the line, and it sounded like she was crying. Lizzy suddenly felt very awake. Jane sat up and put her glass down.

“Kitty, it’s Lizzy, what’s wrong?”

Kitty took a few huge, wet gulps of air before replying. “Oh, Liz, it’s bad. I can’t f-find Lydia, nobody can find her! She’s gone missing!”

All of the blood drained from Lizzy’s face. She felt a cold shiver trickle down her spine. 

“What do you mean missing, Kitty?”

Jane’s hand flew to her mouth. Kitty carried on quickly, still crying. 

“We went to the, to the, to the p-pub at about seven, me and Lydia and some of our fr-friends, it was only meant to be, to be a quiet one, a few, few, a few pints, b-but Lydia wanted to go out into t-t-town. None of us wan-wanted to go, but, but, she kept whining ab-about going out, and then we, we, we had an argu, an argument and she storm-stormed out of the pub, and I, I went out to find her, and the l-last thing I saw was her g-getting into someone’s car, and she didn’t hear me, she didn’t hear me shouting after her, and now she, she isn’t answering her ph-phone, she’s t-turned off her Snapchat location, we’ve all tr-tried texting and calling b-but she isn’t answering, and I don’t know wh-what to do!” 

Lizzy held a hand to her head. “Okay, where are you now?”

“I’m outside the pub, I’ve st-stayed here just in case she c-comes back, then some other have g-gone back to her halls but she isn’t th-there either.” 

“Did you see who’s car she got into?” Lizzy felt like she might already know. Jane’s lower lip was trembling. 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“Kitty, don’t apologise. Get a taxi to our flat, stay here tonight.”

“Okay. Oh, Liz, I shouldn’t have argued w-with her.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Kitty, please. Just come to ours, Jane will be here. I’m going to get some help.”

After another minute of consoling Kitty, Lizzy put the phone down with a shaking hand. She looked at Jane. 

“I bet you anything I know who she’s with.”

Jane didn’t reply, just fiddled with her ponytail and bit her lip. 

Lizzy sprang into action, grabbing her jacket and pulling on a pair of trainers as she crashed around the flat trying to find her phone. Before she left the flat, she punched out a text. 

to: Darcy

I’m coming to yours. I need your help. Lydia’s with Wickham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh cliffhanger! will try and update this asap! 
> 
> also i chose ‘absalom, absalom!’ as the book lizzy gave to darcy because some of the main themes are memory and the past - it’s almost lizzy’s way of saying sorry again, that the past should be behind them and the memories she once had of darcy are faint and untrue (also it’s a very good book anyway). hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> p.s. this is unrelated to this story completely, but i am aware that times are very tough at the moment - we are in the midst of a global pandemic, and i’m sure you are all aware of the disgustingly racist police brutality being used in america. i myself am english, i’m not sure where the majority of my readers are from, but i implore you, wherever you come from, please stay safe. stay safe, aware and, most of all, don’t stay silent. call out injustice when you see it and stand in solidarity with the victims of oppression <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: mild violence, allusion to sexual assault/r*pe in this chapter 
> 
> if these are sensitive topics for you i would recommend not reading this chapter - it isn’t mentioned explicitly, but if you find these topics difficult then perhaps skip this part!

“If I drive through the town centre and look for them both, you two can go to Wickham’s place and see if he’s there with Lydia. We know Kitty’s with Jane now, so we just need to all keep in contact, okay?”

Charlie had taken on the air of a very efficient and very grim army commander, pacing around the large living room in his pyjamas. Lizzy sat hunched over on the sofa next to Darcy, who was perched on the very edge of his seat, his hands balled into fists on his knees. Georgiana was curled like a cat on the armchair by the window, wrapped in a large sweater of Charlie’s, biting her nails. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Lizzy since she had arrived, watching her curiously, almost warily. Lizzy seemed completely unaware of her surroundings, but jolted when Darcy gently touched her arm.

“Elizabeth? Is that okay with you?”  
“Sorry?”  
“You and I will go to Wickham’s house, Charlie’s going to drive around town to see if he can find Lydia.”

Charlie sat down heavily. “I know a few bouncers and bartenders, I’ll ask around. People will be leaving clubs at this time as well, it’s a weekday. I might be able to catch them outside.” 

“Can I help?” Georgiana spoke up from her corner. Darcy and Charlie looked over at her quickly. Darcy spoke first, forcefully. 

“You can help by staying here.”  
“Why can’t I go with Charlie?”  
“Gee, I want you to stay here-“  
“Don’t fucking baby me, Will!” 

Charlie got up and walked into the kitchen, muttering something about texting the bouncers he knew to look out for George and Lydia. Lizzy looked at Georgiana; she was leaning forward in her chair, eyes blazing fiercely in the soft light of the lamp above her head. 

“Darcy.” Lizzy turned to the man sat next to her. “Let her go with Bing.”

Darcy looked like he was about to argue, but then focused in on Lizzy’s face, and his expression softened.

“I want to help.” Georgiana spoke quietly. “I don’t want him to do the same to another girl. Let me go with Charlie.” 

Darcy looked from Lizzy to Georgiana. “Fine.” He relented. “Stay in the car, though.”  
“Yep.” 

Georgiana had already sprung to her feet and made her way into the kitchen to find Charlie. Lizzy looked back down at her shoes. She felt Darcy’s hand hesitantly rest on her shoulder.

“We’ll find her, Lizzy. I mean, she might not even be with George.”  
“But if she is? What do you think could have happened?”

He breathed in sharply and stiffened beside her. “Let’s not think about that. Let’s just focus on finding her and keeping her safe.” 

Georgiana scrambled back through into the living room, pulling on a pair of trainers. Charlie followed her, furiously tapping away on his phone. Georgiana suddenly knelt down at Lizzy’s feet, looking up at her. 

“Lizzy?”

Lizzy focused on the girl kneeling in front of her. At first glance, you would not label her as a relation of Darcy; her jaw was rounder, her skin more tanned and her eyes were a light grey colour, set further apart than her brother’s. But certain details of her face contained what seemed to be carbon copies of Darcy’s features: his strong, straight nose; his firm mouth; his thick, dark eyebrows. Lizzy found herself unable to look away from Georgiana. 

“Lizzy, we’re going to find Lydia. And if she’s with George, we’ll make him pay. I won’t let him manipulate your sister the way he manipulated me, okay?”

“Okay.” And, almost unknowingly, Lizzy found herself fully trusting in this fierce young woman and her blazing grey eyes. Georgiana stood up and turned to Charlie. 

“Let’s go. Ring Ted, he’s bouncing at Verve tonight, he might have seen them.”  
“You ring him, use my phone, I’ll start the car...”

Their conversation was audible until the front door slammed behind them. Lizzy heard the car start up and drive away. She had never prayed before, but now she found herself asking God, or whoever was listening, to let Lydia be in town, and not at George Wickham’s house. 

Darcy stood up and held out his hand. Lizzy could see that the palm was lightly calloused, but they looked old. 

“Come on.” His voice was deep in the muffled silence of the living room. “Let’s go.”

*

“Have you found her?”  
“No. We’re on our way to George’s house, we won’t be much longer.”  
“Oh, God. Charlie just rang, he said he hasn’t heard anything.”  
“I know, he texted me as well. Look, I’ll call you back, we’re nearly there.”

Lizzy ended the call. She knew Jane would immediately ring Charlie again, unable to sit alone with Kitty, surrounded by worries and possibilities. The time on Lizzy’s phone said it was almost two in the morning, yet she didn’t feel tired at all. 

Darcy’s hands were gripping the steering wheel, making the veins along his arms stand out. In the synthetic lights from outside the car, Lizzy could see his face in sharp profile; his jaw was set and clenched, his brow furrowed. His hair was sticking up slightly at the back from where he had been running his fingers through it. 

“Darcy, I-“  
“We’re here.”

Darcy hadn’t seemed to have heard Lizzy, for she knew he wouldn’t have cut across her in any other scenario. He quietly pulled the car up to a huge block of flats, got out and walked around to let Lizzy out. Lizzy didn’t even know what she was about to say to Darcy, her mouth had seemingly opened before she had known what kind of words would escape. All she knew is that she couldn’t take her eyes off the determined set of his jaw. 

Darcy opened the car door for her; in any other situation, Lizzy would have reminded him that she can open doors for herself, thank you very much. But it seemed like a pointless gripe now.

“This is the last address I knew he was staying at.” Anxiously, Darcy patted down his pockets. “I’ve got my phone, I have Charlie on speed dial so you’re going to have to be the one to ring the police if... if, if Lydia’s there.” 

The block was a towering, grey mass of stone, stretching almost endlessly into the heavy black sky.

Lizzy turned to Darcy. Half of his face seemed to be obscured by the night. 

“Come on.” Wordlessly, she slipped her hand into his and they walked inside the building. 

The walls of the foyer were slightly damp and peeling. Both lifts were out of order, so they were forced to take the stairs. Lizzy tried not to think too much about how tightly Darcy was holding her hand, like he would be loathe to let go. 

“Why does he live in such a horrible place?” Lizzy couldn’t help panting slightly as they walked up the third flight. Damn, those cigarettes. “I thought he was rich?”

“He was rich, remember. But he spent every last penny, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he pisses away all of his wages every week.”

“How far up are we going?”

“Fifth floor.” 

Just when Lizzy felt like her lungs might explode or implode or collapse in some way, they reached the fifth floor. Finally, Darcy dropped Lizzy’s hand to take out his phone and check the flat number. “5/6. Just along here.”

Lizzy walked slightly behind Darcy. She realised that they were both moving slower than usual, perhaps to defer the inevitable. The carpet under their feet was stained and rolling up at the edges. One of the doors they passed was partially hanging off it’s hinges. 

“What’s that noise?”

Darcy raised his head slightly, listening out for what Lizzy was hearing. “Music?”

Thumping bass notes seemed to be growing steadily louder as they moved down the corridor, making the dirty flooring vibrate. It grew noisier, the music mixed in with screams and laughs and, alarmingly, the sound of a broken glass. This time, it was Darcy that took Lizzy’s hand. They stopped outside a door, where the music was almost ear-splittingly loud. 

“Floor five, flat six.”

Darcy had to raise his voice to be heard. Lizzy realised that she was shivering. Darcy put his hand up to knock on the peeling door, but as he touched it, it swung open. The stale scent of marijuana and strong liquor assaulted their noses as they both stood, rooted to the spot, in the doorway. Darcy suddenly tugged Lizzy forward, determination etched on his face as he stepped inside. “Come on.”

The flat was dark and dank, lightbulbs scattered sporadically across the ceiling offering the only dim illumination. In this dingy light, Lizzy could see beer cans, vodka bottles, bongs and wrappers strewn all over the dirty carpet. People were everywhere: sat on the windowsill with a belt and a needle; lying on the floor trapped in what looked more like a struggle then an embrace; passed out over the stained sofa. 

“There’s so many girls!” Lizzy shouted over the thumping music. Darcy looked horrified.   
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Lizzy had to lip read Darcy’s words, his voice was pitched so quiet in his state of shock. 

Lizzy shook herself out of her trance and let go of Darcy’s hand. “You start asking people if they know Lydia, I’ll search the other rooms.” 

As she tried to move away, Darcy grabbed her arm. “Be careful, Elizabeth.”

“I will.” 

Lizzy stepped over an unconscious body. Her head was pounding in time to the bass coming out of the speaker on top of the broken television, making her vision slightly fuzzy. Her chest hurt, she was sweating all over, her teeth were chattering from what she hoped was cold but was most likely fear. Yet, she still found the strength to roar out that bastard’s name. 

“Wickham?” Her throat felt like it was on fire, she began almost sprinting in and out of rooms: a tiny bathroom, a bedroom, the kitchen... “Wickham? I know you’re here! Wickham! Where’s my fucking sister?”... another bedroom... 

“Wick- oh, my God! Lydia! Lydia!” 

She had entered a small bedroom that was almost completely dark, hardly noticing the figure inside until she did a horrified double take. Lizzy hit her hand against the wall, fumbling to find a light switch. When synthetic yellow light flooded the room, she reeled back. Lydia was lying on the bed, her head lolling backwards, her arms and legs pointed at strange angles. Her eyes were half open, but only the whites showed. 

Lizzy rushed over to her sister, hardly noticing that she was crying hysterically. She grabbed Lydia’s face, rubbing her cheek, stroking her hair, doing anything to check that she was really there, in her arms. 

“Will!” Lizzy’s throat burned as she screamed. “Darcy! Darcy! She’s in here, Will!”

Her tears fell into Lydia’s dark hair as she shook her. “Lydia, baby, wake up, please wake up, Lydia, it’s me, it’s Liz...”

Darcy skidded up next to her and grabbed Lydia’s arm immediately, placing two fingers on the inside of her wrist whilst Lizzy sat back in stupefied horror. 

“She’s alive, I can feel her pulse.” Darcy’s voice was hoarse. “It looks like she’s been spiked. I need to call Charlie and Jane, have you got your phone? Ring the police, tell them to come to-“

Lizzy looked up from Lydia’s blank, lifeless face as Darcy’s voice cut off. She followed his line of vision until she saw someone stood, darkening the doorway. George Wickham leaned against the doorframe, still wearing the shirt he was fired in just twelve short hours earlier. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand, and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Lizzy felt her throat go dry and her chest constrict as he looked straight at her. 

“Oh, what a shame.” His voice was sinister and low, and his smile widened as he spoke. “You found my new toy. I was going to have so much fun with her.” 

Lizzy had often read about the furor impius that Virgil was so fond of using: unholy, impious rage, a fury so deep that you lose all sense of reality; you rage and kill and slash and never sate that inhuman, animalistic anger. She had never believed it to be a real feeling, until George Wickham grinned and called her sister a toy... and winked. Lizzy felt that she was carried by some inhuman force as she leapt to her feet and lunged at him, scratching his arms and shoulders, pummelling his chest, spitting in his eye. He angrily smacked her, making her head feel like it was violently wobbling. Despite the pain in her jaw, she leapt at him again, getting her hands on anything he could find. George was no longer smirking. 

Strong arms grabbed hers, holding her back. Darcy swung her around, away from Wickham, and held her against the bed.

“You fucking bastard! You bastard, you bastard, you bastard!” Lizzy repeated the word like a mantra even when her throat gave up and all she could do was hoarsely mouth it. George was leaning against a cabinet, rubbing his shoulder which was bleeding through his shirt. Darcy’s face hovered above Lizzy’s as she cried silently. 

“Lizzy. We need to get Lydia out. I’ve phoned the police.”

Lizzy saw George run, but didn’t have the energy or capacity in her voice to shout. The last thing she remembered was Darcy touching her face gently, before everything went grey, then black. Then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow that was difficult to write! 
> 
> i was never going to have wickham actually physically assault lydia, because i feel like i wouldn’t have been able to properly do a scene like that justice, i wouldn’t have felt comfortable with that in my story. obviously i had to think of a way to translate wickham’s despicable behaviour into a modern setting, so i decided that he would spike lydia on a night out. if this is a sensitive topic for you, or you have/you know someone who has dealt with any sort of sexual assault, i am leaving some links to websites that can offer help and advice to people who have been through things like that. 
> 
> lots of love to all of you, as always! 
> 
> https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/sexual-health/help-after-rape-and-sexual-assault/
> 
> https://www.helpguide.org/articles/ptsd-trauma/recovering-from-rape-and-sexual-trauma.htm
> 
> https://www.supportline.org.uk/problems/rape-and-sexual-assault/


	19. Chapter 19

A tall figure moves towards her. His face is obscured by a blinding patch of light, like the sun has come down from the sky to rest on his skin, but she knows it’s him. She says his name, smiling, the word falling off her tongue, dripping like honey. He reaches out for her, and she can suddenly see his face. It’s not him, it’s not him! His blue eyes pierce her skin and his cavernous mouth opens wide, it’s going to chew her up and swallow her, digest her, she says her own name with a shout because now she is outside of her body, watching him advance, his mouth growing wider and wider - 

Lizzy jolted awake. The first thing she blearily noticed was that her throat hurt. Looking around, and still half-asleep, she couldn’t work out where she was. 

“Liz.”

She jumped. Charlie was sat on a chair next to her, his hair tousled and his skin pale. As Lizzy slowly came to her senses, she recognised the living room at Darcy and Charlie’s house. The sky outside was still dark, but seemed like the light of a new day could spill over at any second, fingers of dark blue creeping through the black. Lizzy rubbed her eyes. 

“What...” Her voice was horse and quiet; she tried to clear her throat, but it felt like she was swallowing razor blades.  
“You fainted, Liz.” The bags under Charlie’s eyes sagged as he spoke. “You fainted just before the police arrived. Darcy had to carry you to the car.”

Lizzy must have looked quizzical, because Charlie continued. “It probably happened because of stress, tiredness. You hadn’t eaten much. You’ve only been out for a few hours, it’s almost half five. Darcy said you were shouting a lot, which must be why your voice is gone.” 

As she lay back slightly on the cushions beneath her, Lizzy tried to wrap her head around what had happened. Then, suddenly, like a lightning bolt to her head, she remembered. 

“Lydia!” She croaked desperately. “Where’s Lydia?” 

“Hey, hey it’s fine.” Charlie moves to sit next to her on the sofa, his eyes full of concern. “Lydia’s okay, she’s at the hospital. Jane and Darcy are with her, Jane told me she woke up about an hour ago, but she still can’t move properly. Kitty’s still at your flat, she rang your parents and they’re leaving Brighton as soon as possible.” 

Lizzy felt herself sink into the sofa with relief. She felt like she might cry again and turned her face from Charlie, embarrassed, but instead stared into someone else’s face. Georgiana was stood at the back of the sofa, holding out a glass of water. 

“Here,” she said softly. “Drink some, you’re dehydrated.” 

Grateful for the care she was being offered, Lizzy took the water and gulped it quickly. She caught a concerned look being exchanged between the two. 

“What is it?” She said hoarsely.

“It’s just...” Charlie fiddled with his glasses. “We know you probably want to go and see Lydia, but Darcy said her thinks you should rest for a bit. You’ve been through a lot in the past few hours, Liz.”

“That’s bullshit!” Lizzy stood up, Charlie immediately standing with his arms outstretched in case she were to fall. She brushed him off frustratedly and set about in search for her shoes and jacket. “I know Darcy’s concerned about me, but I need to see my sister.” 

Charlie looked at Georgiana nervously, stood with his feet tapping on the carpet. “I don’t know, Lizzy...”

“Charlie.” Lizzy glared at him. “I need to see Lydia.” 

“O-okay. Okay, fine. I’ll drive you.” 

Georgiana suddenly wrapped her arms around Lizzy, making her momentarily reel back. But the younger girl clung on, and Lizzy eventually leant in to the hug, trying not to let more tears spill over. 

“She’ll be fine, Lizzy.” She heard Georgiana whisper. “I’m okay. Lydia will be too.” 

*

The hospital was quiet. The scent of bleach and sanitiser was strong, making Darcy feel lethargic, but he forced himself to stay awake. Across the bed from him, Jane sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, her chin resting on her hand. He kept watching her close her beautiful eyes before opening them quickly again, obviously fighting off waves of sleep threatening to drag her under. The patch of sky shown through the tiny window above Jane’s head was turning pink, the rising sun not yet visible. Darcy yawned. He looked at the girl lying on the hospital bed between himself and Jane.

There was a small bruise flourishing on her sharp right cheekbone that Darcy hadn’t noticed when he and Lizzy found her. Her eyelids flickered but did not open. Darcy looked at Lydia and saw Georgiana, young and angry and confused, turning her face away from him when he came into her bedroom to talk. Gently, Darcy placed his hand over Lydia’s. The skin of her hand was dry and warm, and her fingers moved slightly when he touched her.

His phone began buzzing in his back pocket, cutting through the heavy silence. Georgiana’s face, much younger than she was now, appeared on the screen under her name.

“Hi, Gee.”  
“Charlie’s on his way. With Lizzy.”  
Darcy sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Okay.”  
“She’s not great. Still quite groggy but determined to see Lydia. I said you’d be there.”  
“Fine.”  
“And did you talk to Lizzy’s friend?”  
“Yes, Charlotte said she’d shut the Emporium today. She and Mary are picking Lizzy’s parents up from the train station first thing and bringing them here.”  
“Okay. She’ll be there soon, maybe... maybe just get her a coffee, or something.” 

She ended the call. Darcy got up, stretched. His back clicked uncomfortably. Jane was asleep, her head falling forwards. Before he left the room, Darcy placed his jacket around her thin shoulders. 

The main corridor that Darcy found himself walking down was quiet, an occasional ward sister or nurse bustling past. It was just after six in the morning, and nothing felt real.

As Darcy waited for lukewarm coffee to struggle its way out of the machine in front of him, he laid his forehead against the cool metal of the contraption. His mind kept wandering back to the events of a few hours ago. Shaking his ankle out of the grip of an obviously terrified boy, huddled in a corner of the flat; hearing Lizzy scream his name until her voice gave out; seeing Lydia stretched out across the bed, her arms pointing like a broken doll; the gleam in Wickham’s eye as he stood casually in the doorway. And, the strongest image of all, Wickham being pushed to the ground by a burly police officer. Darcy remembered shouting to the police that Lydia had been spiked as they held up her limp body. She had walked from the bedroom with Darcy, if it could be called walking; Darcy had been forced to carry Lizzy over his shoulder and support Lydia’s weight on his other side as he dragged her out of the flat, whispering useless apologies as she banged her head on a doorframe, as Lizzy nearly slipped from his grasp. Two police officers, a man and a woman, had picked Lydia up as she fell again, more officers coming up the rickety stairs and storming into Wickham’s flat. As Darcy had gently laid Lizzy on the floor and collapsed against the wall, he saw Wickham’s face, pressed into the dirty carpet. He was grinning distortedly. 

“Darcy?”

He lifted his head as he heard his name being called from down the corridor. Lizzy was walking towards him, followed by Charlie. Lizzy’s hair was in complete disarray, hanging loose around her shoulders for once, but tangled. Her face was still streaked with tear tracks, and she was shivering inside Charlie’s coat. She looked so small. 

Without even thinking about it, Darcy strode towards her and wrapped her up in a hug. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and felt her shake with silent sobs against his chest. “Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. She’s okay, you’re okay. You’re safe. It’s all okay.” 

Darcy caught Charlie’s eye over the top of Lizzy’s head; he was looking at them both strangely, squinting slightly like he was looking at a bright light. Lizzy pulled away from Darcy and wiped her eyes frustratedly. 

“I’m going to go and see her. I don’t even... I don’t want to know the details right now, tell me afterwards. I just need to see her.”  
“Okay.” 

She smiled, slightly awkwardly, and set off down the corridor. 

Darcy turned back to the coffee machine, which had decided to stop working. He felt Charlie come up behind him.

“Did you talk to the doctors?”

All of a sudden, Darcy felt exhausted, and it took almost all of his effort to simply answer the question. “Yes. She was given a large dose of rohypnol.”

“Fuck.”

“She’s very stable, she’s just sleeping now. But the doctor said it could stay in her system for up to eight more hours, so they’re keeping her in until it wears off. Thankfully we found her before Wickham was able to... do anything.” 

“And where’s Wickham now?”

Darcy saw him lying on the sterile ground in front of him, grinning into the floor. A chill washed over his body. 

“Darcy?” Charlie spoke a little louder. “Where’s Wickham?”

“He was arrested. He’ll be in custody.” 

“Do you want to tell Gee, or should I?”

Darcy looked at his best friend. He often forgot how much Charlie loved Georgiana. “Let’s leave it for a bit. We can tell her when we get home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is short! i’ve been fairly busy recently but the next chapter will be longer i promise 
> 
> i just wanted to take this moment to say to all my readers, thank you for enjoying the story so far, it’s been so uplifting and wonderful to have so much amazing feedback. 
> 
> whilst i am aware that this chapter contains minor characters in the police force, i am in no way condoning the disgusting actions of a lot of police officers that are currently being protested against. 
> 
> i am urging all of you to stand up against injustice wherever, whenever and however you can. i am going to put some links to petitions/organisations to help the fight against racial injustice. even if you cannot donate or go out to protest, share what you can and educate people around you. please stay safe during this time and make sure that your voice is heard. 
> 
> justice for george floyd: https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd
> 
> george floyd’s memorial fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/georgefloyd
> 
> BLM foundation: https://blacklivesmatter.com/about/
> 
> bail funds to support: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/bail_funds_george_floyd
> 
> minnesota freedom fund: https://minnesotafreedomfund.org/donate


	20. Chapter 20

By the time December made its chilly entrance, the events of late October seemed like a bad dream. Lydia had spent two nights in the hospital being monitored, her considerably-sized family constantly gathered around her bed. Lizzy had noticed that when Lydia’s strength began returning, so did her ego, for she began preening and enjoying all of the attention. She also definitely enjoyed the huge bunch of flowers sent directly to her bedside from Darcy and Charlie, and showed them proudly to every doctor or nurse who walked by. 

But, with the return of her little sister’s bright and spunky personality, as well as her old sarcasm and sneering, Lizzy noticed a change in Lydia. As the bruise on her cheekbone turned yellow and eventually faded, Lydia began flinching or leaning away from physical contact. It wasn’t overly noticeable if you weren’t close to Lydia, but Lizzy saw her sister move her head away quickly when a doctor went to check her pulse, noticed her strain her body away slightly if someone leant in for a hug. Lizzy had a strong feeling that, even after Lydia was allowed home, she was plagued with dreams about large hands holding her, moulding her body like it was no longer hers. She point-blank refused to talk about George Wickham, even to Kitty. 

Lydia, to the delight of her mother, had decided to take a couple of months off from university and stay in Brighton until Christmas. As Lizzy and Jane stood shivering in the train station on a cold, wet November morning, they waved at their little sister as she pressed herself up against the train window until it was out of sight. Lizzy had linked her arm through Jane’s and went to walk back down the stairs to the car, but had stopped when she heard a suppressed sniffle.

“Jane? What is it?”  
Jane sniffed again and blinked, obviously trying to hold tears back. “I’m just thinking about... about other girls George could have done that to. Other girls that he could still do that to. It isn’t fair.”

Lizzy had felt her heart tie itself tighter into the knot that it seemed to have been in permanently since October. There had not been enough evidence to charge George - rohypnol had been found in Lydia’s system, but there was no concrete evidence to link him to the spiking. He was let go, because even the drug activity at his flat didn’t directly indict him as a dealer. All they knew was that he had left Bristol, free from consequences. Again. 

All five Bennet sisters and Lottie had all seemed to unanimously and silently decide to compartmentalise any thoughts about Wickham, refusing to let them bubble to the surface. Lizzy knew in her heart that he wouldn’t risk returning, but, occasionally, when she was caught off guard by her own thoughts, she would hear him knocking at the door to the flat, or walking outside the Emporium’s front window, or stacking books on the rickety shelves. She always had to shake her head and remind herself he wasn’t there. 

George Wickham was thankfully the last thing on Lizzy’s mind on Christmas Eve at the cottage in Brighton. The living room looked like something off a Christmas card: the fire was crackling away merrily, warming the faces of Kitty and Lydia who, as the babies of the family, were lying on the carpet on their stomachs. Mary and Lottie, an honorary Bennet, were curled up together on the armchair, both wearing the huge matching jumpers crocheted by Mary herself. Mr. Bennet was very comfortable in his own armchair, and Mrs. Bennet had settled herself happily in between Jane and Lizzy on the big, plush sofa in the middle of the room, Lizzy’s feet, clad in fluffy socks, laid across her lap. On the television, George Bailey’s little daughter Zuzu was telling everyone how every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. Mr. Bennet caught Lizzy’s eye and raised his eyebrows good-naturedly: they were the only two in the room not crying or at least teary-eyed. 

As the credits began rolling, Jane wiped her eyes delicately and leaned into her mother. 

“Oh, that film never fails to make me cry.”

Mary yawned from her place directly under Lottie. “The only bit I don’t like is Mary ending up as an old spinster if she’d never met George Bailey.”

Lizzy grinned and got up, stretching. “She works at a library. By that film’s logic, I’m an old spinster as well.”

“You don’t work at a library,” Kitty piped up from the carpet. “You own a bookshop.”

“And a damn fine bookshop it is too!” Mr. Bennet chuckled. “You don’t need a husband, eh, Liz? Even if he is as lovely as James Stewart.” 

Lizzy felt herself blush, and she had a suspicion it wasn’t from the fire. “I don’t think I’ll be marrying anyone soon anyway, let alone old Jimmy.” She checked her phone furtively. One text. “Hot drink, anyone?”

Lizzy hurried into the kitchen with a long list of various teas and coffees. Checking to see if anyone had followed, she pulled her phone out again. 

from: Darcy  
Happy Christmas Eve. Give your family my regards and have a lovely evening. D x 

Lizzy lost the battle against herself not to smile. She began tapping out a reply, but was startled by a familiar voice.  
“Who you texting, mysterious girl?”

Lottie waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Lizzy shoved her phone in her back pocket.

“Nobody. And please don’t start singing Peter Andre at me.”  
“I will absolutely start singing if you don’t tell me who you’re texting.”  
“No.”  
“Let me see your phone.”  
“No!”

A short scuffle ensued, wherein Lottie was scrabbling at Lizzy’s backside to try and reach the phone whilst Lizzy jerked her bum away, trying to duck away from her best friend.

“If you don’t stop,” Lizzy panted. “I’ll tell Mary you think her jumpers are too itchy!”

Lottie straightened up and gasped self-righteously. “You wouldn’t!”

“You know I would.” 

“Fine.” Lottie brushed her jeans down and sat down at the kitchen island as if nothing had happened. “Well, the joke’s on you, because I know for a fact that Mary’s made you a jumper for your Christmas present. It’s woolly. And blue.”

“Christ.” 

To avoid the inevitable, Lizzy turned her back on Lottie, busying herself with finding mugs and turning on the coffee machine. She could still feel Lottie’s eyes on the back of her neck. She gave in.

“Fine!” Lizzy grumbled and took her phone out of her pocket. “Darcy texted me.”  
“I knew it!” Lottie crowed triumphantly. “You’re such a shit liar, I could see it all over your face. What did he say?”

Lizzy rolled her eyes and held out her phone to Lottie, who squinted as she read.  
“‘Give your family my regards’? Why does he even text like he’s from the eighteen-hundreds?”

Lizzy shoved her phone away and began pouring hot water. Lottie bounced off her seat and, to Lizzy’s irritation, began poking her in the ribs.

“Lizzy and Darcy, sitting in a tree...”  
“Oh, piss off.”  
“K-I-S-S-I-N-G...”  
“How old are you, twelve?”  
“You’ve got a crush.”  
“I’m twenty six, I do not have a crush.”  
“Who has a crush?”

Jane appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, radiant in an oversized sweater with Rudolph’s face on it. Lizzy threw up her hands exasperatedly.

“Oh, fantastic, shall we get Mum and Dad in here too?” 

Jane smiled serenely and glided her way in. “I’ve come to help with the drinks. Lydia and Kitty want to get to bed early, it’s adorable - it’s like they’re little kids again!”

“They are little kids,” Lizzy grouched. “And you are.” She nodded darkly at Lottie, who simply grinned. She turned to Jane.

“Lizzy fancies Darcy.”  
“I do not!”  
“Oh, well.” Jane pursed her lips, trying not to smile. “We all know that.”

Lizzy dropped a spoon on the counter with a clatter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lottie rolled her eyes and pushed Lizzy out of the way to continue making the drinks; Jane smiled sympathetically at her sister. “Liz, it’s kind of obvious. Even Charlie mentioned it the other day.”

“How is it bloody obvious, I never see him! This is literally the first time he’s texted me in months.”

“It’s just...” Jane twisted her fingers together, looking at Lottie for help to no avail. “You mention him a lot. Like, whenever I make a coffee, you always say that the stuff from Pemberley’s is better.”

Lizzy gawped. “But it is! And I could just as well be talking about Charlie.”

“But remember, you said the other day that Darcy makes the best cappuccinos you’ve ever had.”

“I-“

“And you keep telling us which books he would enjoy from the new stock.”

“And,” Lottie piped up. “And I’ve caught you gazing at him at work from across the road like some sort of stalker.”

Lizzy could hardly believe what she was hearing. She sat down heavily. “Well... what did Charlie say, then?”

“Oh, um, nothing really. He just asked me whether you’d said anything about Darcy, you know.”

“And what did you say?”

“Um...”

“Jane.”

“Oh, nothing really. Just that you, um. That you mention him. Occasionally.” 

Groaning, Lizzy laid her head on the kitchen table. It was true, Darcy had been occupying her mind slightly more than usual. Ever since the events of Autumn, Lizzy had begun to see the man she once despised in a new light. And she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him again, but not angry or bruising - soft, gentle, loving.

“I do not have a crush on Fitzwilliam Darcy!” Lizzy stood up and grabbed a few of the full mugs from the countertop. “Firstly, saying ‘crush’ at our age is frankly disgusting. And secondly, even if I did have any sort of feelings for him, it would never work because I know for a fact that anything he might have once felt towards me has evaporated.” 

*

“I hope Jane doesn’t think the present’s too much.” 

Charlie Bingley was stood against the kitchen counter, drumming his fingers against the marble whilst Darcy stirred seven various mugs of tea in turn. 

“What did you get her again?”  
“A necklace. Just a small pendant. Rose gold jewellery suits her, she’s, um, got warm undertones to her skin.” 

Darcy glanced at his best friend; Charlie looked desperate with worry. He smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure it’s perfect, Charlie.”

Charlie smiles, visibly more relaxed. “Has Lizzy replied?”

Darcy’s brow immediately furrowed as he looked, almost accusingly, into the steaming mugs in front of him. “No. Maybe it was silly to text her.”

“Oh, come off it. It’s Christmas Eve, she won’t think anything of it.” 

“Are you sure? It won’t seem... desperate? I already know she doesn’t have feelings for me, she made that clear enough. I don’t want her to think that I’m pressuring her, or, or, deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable.” 

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Right, you are thinking way too deeply about this. All you said was have a good Christmas and that you hope her family are well, it’s not as if you’re declaring your ardent love for her, or proposing marriage.” 

Darcy huffed. “I’ve already done one of those.”

“Right, you look like you’re about to start verbally assaulting those cups of tea,” Charlie reached around Darcy and grabbed a few mugs. “So I’m going to take them off you. Just come and enjoy the evening, don’t think too much about Liz.” 

The sound of Georgiana singing along to ‘Fairytale of New York’ with Charlie’s mother floated through from the living room, making Darcy smile slightly. He knew that when he came out of the kitchen, he would be greeted with his little mashup of a family. Charlie, Gee, Charlie’s wonderful parents, the not-so-wonderful Caroline, and his great-aunt Catherine, sat in the nicest armchair like royalty. 

Darcy knew that the living room was cosy and warm and full of the people he loved. But he couldn’t help but think he would rather be sat alone in the kitchen, accompanied only by the faintest chance that Elizabeth Bennet would reply to his text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooray for wonderfully oblivious pining! gosh darn it lizzy and darcy will you just admit your feelings already? 
> 
> i didn’t realise how weird it would feel to write about christmas during the summer but hey ho. more caroline content next chapter - i absolutely LOVE writing caroline bc she’s so despicable, it’s fun to think up new ways for her to be passive aggressive and horrible, so i’m excited to see what she’ll be like on christmas day surrounded by fun and joy!!


	21. Chapter 21

Something was knocking in Darcy’s head. Something was tap, tap, tapping incessantly. He tried to bat it away but it continued, getting louder, until a voice in his ear startled him awake.

“Will!”  
“Hm, what? Oh, Gee.”

Georgiana stood, leaning over her brother, grinning. The dulled grey light falling on her face told Darcy that it was still early. He groaned and tried to pull the covers back over his head, but Georgiana yanked them back.

“It’s Christmas, Will! Tradition never dies.”  
“I’m thirty years old, Gee! This tradition can die a cold, lonely death, out in the snow.”

Georgiana sighed. “It isn’t snowing, idiot. Am I going to have to jump on your bed like I used to? Because I’m considerably taller now, and-“  
“Okay, fine, I’m up, I’m up.” 

Darcy sat up properly and stretched. Georgiana was perched on the end of his bed, practically vibrating with excitement; her makeup-free face looked younger than usual, and Darcy couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t believe you’re acting like such a child, Gee.”   
“Oh, don’t be a Grinch, it’s Christmas! Come on, let’s see if Charlie’s awake yet.”

After half an hour of Georgiana encouraging the entire household to wake up, everyone was piled into the living room, sleepily but happily sipping on Buck’s fizz and exchanging gifts. Great Aunt Catherine was sat back in her armchair, an was consequently raised slightly above everyone else, projecting an air of Queenly indifference. Georgiana was in raptures over the travel journal kit she received from Charlie and Caroline’s parents. “Thank you both so much!” She grinned and hugged them both in turn.

“Well, it means now that when you get famous from selling your travel diaries you can give us a mention!” Mr. Bingley winked at Georgiana. 

Caroline yawned. “I just put money in all of your cards, I never know what anybody likes.”  
“Only because you never ask, Caz!” Charlie quipped. Caroline narrowed her eyes and landed her gaze on the small box on Charlie’s lap.

“What’s that?” 

Charlie looked down and, on impulse, covered the present with his large hands. “Uh, nothing. I, um-“  
“Is it from that Jane?” Caroline’s lip curled distastefully. Darcy was suddenly filled with an emotion that was not in keeping with the idea of Christmas spirit. 

Charlie’s mother, the morning fuzz of her red hair sticking straight out from her head, looked at Charlie with her pale eyebrows raised. “Jane? Who’s Jane, Charlie?”

Charlie’s face was now as red as the wrapping paper encasing the box on his lap. “She’s, um. She’s a woman. A, uh, a girl, woman, a person that I’m, um, seeing, sort of, she, she, she’s lovely! She’s very lovely, and, uh-“ His brown eyes found Darcy’s helplessly. 

“Jane works part time in a little bookshop opposite Pemberley’s.” Darcy waded in. “I have met her, and can say with conviction that she is in fact quite lovely.” 

Charlie’s parents looked at each other and smiled happily. “Oh, Charlie. That’s great, that’s really great.” Mr. Bingley said jovially. “I’m sure if it goes well with this so-called lovely Jane then we’ll be meeting her sooner or later?”

Charlie spluttered anxiously. “Ah, yes, yes, I’m, I’m sure that would be-“  
“Her younger sister runs the tiny little bookshop,” Caroline cut in, examining her nails. “She’s a hag, and the shop is ghastly.”   
“Caz!’ Mrs. Bingley reprimanded her daughter. “Now I’m sure she’s-“

“Caroline,” Darcy interrupted Mrs. Bingley, his voice calm despite the anger rearing up inside of him. He felt Georgiana’s hand on his knee. “I am well aware that it is Christmas morning, we are all having a lovely time together as a family, and that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, you do not know anything about Elizabeth Bennet, apart from what you wish to see, and I can safely say that she is as far from a hag as any woman can get, and Longbourne Book Emporium, whilst small, is a far cry from being ghastly, even if it doesn’t meet your ridiculously high, Chelsea standards. So, if you don’t mind, I would thank you to keep your hateful little opinions to yourself, at least until the new year.” 

The room fell silent. Caroline’s face had flushed red, then turned an ugly maroon colour half way through Darcy’s speech, finally settling on an impressively blazing pink. Then, Great Aunt Catherine shifted in her armchair and huffed. “Fitzwilliam, that is no way to talk to a lady.”

“Some lady.” This quip came from Charlie, followed by a barely muffled snort from Georgiana. Caroline swallowed and looked away, her cheeks mottled with anger. 

“Now, now. We’re all adults here,” Mr. Bingley said cheerfully (whilst winking not-so-secretly at Georgiana). “Charlie, why don’t you open that present, then?”

Charlie finally gave in and began unwrapping the box carefully; Darcy was touched when he saw the effort that Jane had obviously gone to in order to make the present look nice, and was touched even further as he watched Charlie painstakingly take off the paper and ribbon, making sure not to rip any of it. He opened the box and everyone, even Caroline and Great Aunt Catherine, leaned in, almost comically, to take a look.

“That’s... wow.” Georgiana sounded impressed. She went to grin at Charlie, but found that he was staring into the box with a wondrous expression on his face. Nestled in the silky fabric lining the box’s interior was a beautiful silver watch. It was already set to the correct time and ticking, and the polished glass face gleamed in the weak sunlight streaming through the large living room window.

“I made that lame old joke,” Charlie said faintly. “About how it’s time she got a watch when Jane asked for the time, on our first date. Before, before she hurt her foot, obviously. And... it became our thing, a silly little joke we always made. I... I can’t believe she got me something this nice.” 

Darcy observed his best friend pick up the watch like it was made of glass, and considered how much he actually knew about Charlie and Jane. What a fool he had been to assume Jane Bennet didn’t like his friend. It was so clear to see...

“I’m going to marry this girl, Darce.”

Charlie had leaned in conspiratorially; the attention from the others had been moved over to Mr. Bingley, who was gushing over his new plant pots and seeds from Darcy. Charlie dropped his voice to a low whisper, and repeated, “I’m marrying her.”

“Charlie...” Darcy lowered his voice and made sure that neither Caroline nor Catherine were eavesdropping. “You aren’t even officially a couple yet.”

“I know, I know,” Charlie smiled as he talked, his eyes gleaming. “But, the thing is, I just know. Jane is it for me, she just is. And before you start being all sceptical and depressing, this isn’t because she’s bought me a fancy watch for Christmas. I just know. Do you get what I mean? I know she’s the one. I’ve never felt like this before.”

*

“I hope Charlie didn’t think the watch was too much.” 

Lizzy rolled her eyes as she opened a new bottle of wine. It was the sixth bottle that had been opened over the course of Christmas day, and she could say with conviction that the alcohol she had been consuming since the late morning had travelled straight to her head, making her happily tipsy and more forgiving of her family’s antics. Jane had been the most conservative with her alcohol intake out of the bunch, as usual, and her anxiety over her present to Charlie had carried her through the day. 

It was now well into the evening, and Lizzy was sat in the warm kitchen that her mother had decked out with fairy lights, with Jane sat opposite her at the table. A few leftovers from the enormous Christmas lunch were still sat pride of place in between them, after being picked at by members of the Bennet clan earlier. Lizzy could hear Michael Bublé’s voice warbling out of the speakers in the living room, Lydia and Mrs. Bennet singing along, both of them woefully out of tune. The day had been pleasant and cheery, with presents exchanged between all parties and board games taking up most of the afternoon. The closest there had been to a confrontation was when Kitty won at Monopoly and Lydia had seemed to be on the verge of a strop, but Mary had quickly pressed another glass of prosecco into the youngest Bennet’s hand and all had been forgotten. Mary and Lottie had already gone to bed, having commandeered the biggest spare room, and Mr. Bennet had retired not long afterwards, happily and quietly plastered on the bottle of whiskey given to him by Lizzy. 

“Why are you rolling your eyes?” Jane fiddled with the cuff of her pyjamas and looked nervously at her sister. “Do you think it was too much? I mean, we haven’t even been on that many dates, and we haven’t even, we haven’t, um...” She coughed. Lizzy raised her eyebrows. “What I mean to say is, I haven’t, he hasn’t, we haven’t-“

“Shagged?”

“Liz.” Jane’s face went a startling shade of pink. “No, we haven’t. But we’re obviously very close at the moment, we’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

She wasn’t wrong. For the better part of two months, Lizzy had been watching her sister grow closer and closer with the adorable, dorky man who worked across the road from her. They had been on dates, to see films and get dinner - Jane had even invited Charlie round to see her illustration studio in the flat, and Lizzy had felt like an intruder when she walked in on him bent over her work, in raptures over the tiny watercolours.

She had never seen Jane more comfortable with anyone who wasn’t a family member.

“Janie,” Lizzy sipped her wine wisely. “I think it’s a perfect present, and I’m sure he loves it. And, I mean, look at what he got you!”

Jane brought her hand up to her chest and touched the pendant that hung from her neck. It was beautiful, rose gold and delicate, setting off Jane’s skin tone - ‘English Rose’, as Mrs. Bennet had always called it. The pendant was shaped like a tiny paintbrush, the details for the hairs of the brush so small they looked impossible. It truly was a lovely gift. 

“I suppose.” Jane had finally lost that nervous look in her eyes; she fingered the necklace thoughtfully. “I bet he liked your present, too.”

Lizzy and Lottie had given Charlie a joint present in the form of a huge array of potted plants for the coffee shop. Lizzy remembered telling Lottie not to address it to Darcy as well; Lottie had raised her eyebrow smugly, and had written simply ‘Bing’ on the front of his Christmas card. 

“Yeah, they’ll look nice in the shop.”  
“What did you get Darcy?”

Lizzy spluttered on her wine. After recovering, she cleared her throat, embarrassed. “What?”

Jane smiled passively. “What did you get Darcy for Christmas?”

“Nothing!” Shit. She definitely said that too quickly. “Nothing, why would I buy Darcy anything?”

“Oh, okay then-“

“Fine! If you must know, I gave him a book.”

Jane looked down, obviously trying not to laugh. “What book?”

“‘A Room With a View’.” Lizzy took a deep breath as Jane raised her eyebrows. “I gave him my copy.”

Jane’s mouth fell open. “Really? That’s your favourite book!”

“I know!” Lizzy groaned and took a huge gulp of wine. “Oh God, that was so stupid of me. He’ll definitely suspect something-“

“What is there to suspect?”

“Nothing!” 

Gently, Jane took the glass of wine from Lizzy’s hand and stood up, stretching. “Well, if you don’t have any feelings to hide, and he doesn’t know that it’s your only copy of your favourite ever book, then... everything’s fine.”

“I guess.”

“I mean, we’ll be seeing him soon anyway, New Year’s Eve isn’t far away now.”

“I know.” 

“Did he... did Darcy get you anything?”

Lizzy flushed and looked down. “A card.”

“Oh. Well that’s... nice.” Jane leant down and hugged her sister. “I’m going to bed. No more wine.”

“I’ll be up in a bit.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Janie.” 

Lizzy waited until she had heard her sister shut the door to their currently shared bedroom. She could still hear her mother and Lydia gossiping in the living room; Kitty had evidently gone to bed. Lizzy waited, and finally reached into the pocket of her pyjamas. She drew out the tiny box nestled into the fabric of her pocket. She opened the little velvet gift, and smiled at what lay inside. Lying on the spongy interior was a thin silver chain, with the tiniest pearl Lizzy had ever seen attached to it. Fumbling, she drew it out and clasped it around her wrist. She smiled. The pearl sat, warm and smooth, against her skin. 

*

Darcy yawned and went to turn out the lamp. He looked down at Charlie, who had gallantly insisted on sleeping on the floor whilst Great Aunt Catherine commandeered his room. Darcy smiled. Before he switched off the light, he picked up the book lying on his bedside cabinet. It was definitely well-read, the pages thumbed and slightly yellowed. He flicked to the very front of the book and read the message on inside of the cover that he had re-read so many times that Christmas day. 

“Dear Darcy,

I couldn’t think of what to get you, or if I should even buy you a present. But this is my favourite book (which explains why it’s so grotty, sorry). Looking back, I should have bought a copy, but it somehow felt right to give you mine. Sorry if it’s a bad present. 

Thank you - you know what for.

Merry Christmas.

From Lizzy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh those oblivious fools!!


	22. Chapter 22

“I hate the Christmas holidays.”

Lizzy lifted the piece of cucumber that was slowly sliding off her eyelid to look at Lottie, who was sat on the bed, glaring out of the window as if the landscape outside had personally offended her. 

It was the last day of December, and a New Year’s Eve party was going ahead that night at Darcy and Charlie’s “massive fuck off mansion”, as Lottie had named their house. Whilst the two youngest Bennet sisters were staying in Brighton for another few days( Lydia had quietly told everyone that she wanted a low key entrance into the new year, a decision that everyone just as quietly approved of), Lizzy, Jane, Lottie and Mary had all taken a long, arduous and slightly hungover car journey back to Bristol on Boxing Day. Lottie had spent much of the journey with her head clamped between her knees, Mary rubbing her back and rolling her eyes with equal fervour. The strange time in between Christmas and New Year had almost passed, and Lizzy and Lottie were busy getting ready for what promised to be a huge party. 

“Why do you hate it?” Lizzy gave up on trying to reposition the cucumber and ate it instead. What did cucumber even do to your eyes?

“Because,” Lottie groaned and flopped down onto Lizzy’s bed. “It’s cold, and damp, and you have to shop for presents, and then the only good day of the holiday is Christmas Day, then suddenly it’s New Year and everyone expects you to get your life together.”

“Lotts, your life is pretty much together. You’ve got a job and a girlfriend and a flat.”

“But I want to be at work!” 

“Me too,” Lizzy agreed. “But, you know. We aren’t. So let’s make the most of the next week we have off, and then it’s back to the grind. Hey,” she grinned, punching Lottie’s shoulder lightly. “Think of all those new orders you can stack on the shelves! All the spring cleaning you can do in the shop, all the dust and cobwebs you can sweep away.”

“Very interesting how you’re saying ‘you’ and not ‘we’.”

“Well, you know. I’ll be busy making tea and stuff.” 

Lottie sat up and smirked. “More like you’ll be too busy over at Pemberley’s.”

After returning home on Boxing Day, Jane (the nominated driver yet again) had dropped Lottie and Mary off at their flat. As soon as Jane and Lizzy had also got home, Lizzy called Lottie and confessed that Darcy had bought her a bracelet for Christmas. Lottie’s first response had been something along the lines of: “Why couldn’t you tell me this in person like a normal human being?” but she had eventually become excited, demanding to see the bracelet as soon as possible. Since then, she had been insistent that Lizzy should tell Darcy how she really felt; Lizzy was doing her best to ignore her annoyingly wise best friend. 

“Liz, think about it!” Lottie shoved Lizzy’s shoulder as she rolled her eyes and attempted to get up from the bed. “No, seriously. You meet, you don’t like each other. You argue, fine. You sort of make up, fine. He confesses his love to you and you essentially spit in his face, okay, whatever. He saves your bloody sister from a creepy predator, and then buys you a fucking pearl bracelet for Christmas! You can’t say that his feelings have gone.”

“No, they definitely-“

“And!” Lottie raised her voice; Lizzy buried her face in her hands. “And, you like him!”

“No! No, I-“

“Right, just shut up for a second. I don’t know what it is with you, but you just can’t allow yourself to be happy! It’s a mystery to me why you won’t accept that you like him, because everyone else has. I reckon you should just tell him. Like, what’s the worst that could happen? You’re both adults, you should just see what happens.”

Lizzy waited for a second when Lottie had finished. “Can I speak now?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” Lizzy let her voice drip with sarcasm, making Lottie roll her eyes. “Look, I just... don’t think he feels the same anymore, and before you shout about the bracelet again, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He told me he had feelings for me, sure, but that was before I completely embarrassed myself and shouted at him, so why would those feelings still be there? And, again, before you bring up the Lydia thing, that doesn’t prove anything. Anyone with a half decent moral compass would have done the same.” She took a deep breath. “I just have to accept that nothing will happen between us. And that’s fine. That’s completely fine.”

Lottie didn’t speak.

“Plus, obviously he’s good looking and nice and all but... he’s still a bit too posh for me.”

Silence again.

“And, besides, he’s practically Charlie’s brother, and it would be weird for me and Jane to date a pair of brothers. Plus, that basically makes Caroline his sister.”

“Hm.”

“And, and, he’s way too tall. Like, who needs to be that tall? And he’s so grumpy.”

“You’re grumpy.”

“I know, but, he’s grumpy in a different way. And he’s so serious. I couldn’t take him anywhere because he’s so antisocial, it makes him seem rude.”

“He’s much better once he gets to know the person he’s talking to.”

“But,” Lizzy could feel herself grasping at straws, blushing under Lottie’s shrewd gaze. “He... he said David Bowie is overrated! Who the hell thinks Bowie is overrated?”

Lottie considered for a moment. “Yeah, maybe you aren’t right for each other after all.” 

Lizzy knew she was desperately trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Lottie. Fitzwilliam Darcy wouldn’t leave her mind and it was driving her insane. His curly hair, his dark eyes, his strong hands, his sharp jaw - even his aloof mannerisms, his strange temper. Lizzy often found herself thinking about what would happen if she simply walked across the road to his coffee shop and... and... 

Both women lay back on the bed. Lizzy snorted slightly. “God. How come it was so easy for you? You’ve known Mary since she was born, practically, you grew up around her and then, hey presto, you’re a lesbian, she’s bisexual, let’s get married!”

“Hey!” Lottie hit Lizzy on the arm. “You know it wasn’t that simple, are you forgetting that I had to hide our relationship from your entire family, including you for, like, a year?”

“I guess. I still don’t get why you didn’t tell me.”

“Because she’s your little sister and you’re insanely protective over your family.”

“Hmm. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Plus, we aren’t even married. Yet.”

“You might as well be.”

The door to Lizzy’s bedroom suddenly opened. Jane stood in the doorway in a fluffy white dressing gown, her blonde hair in curlers and her face made up perfectly. “You two!” She wrung her hands together as she spoke. “We need to leave here in an hour and a half! Lottie, we’re supposed to be picking you up on the way!”

“I know, I know!” Lottie grinned and stood up, slinging her arm around Jane, who relented and gave her a hug. “I’m going, don’t worry. I’ll make sure Mary’s ready on time.”

“It’s not Mary I worry about.” Jane sighed despairingly, but smiled after Lottie as she went downstairs. They both heard the front door shut quietly. 

Jane sat down delicately on the edge of Lizzy’s bed, pretending not to notice all of the empty mugs and cigarette butts. She went to rub her face, but remembered that she had just done her makeup, so contented herself with clasping her hands together. Her perfectly pink lips were in a ‘o’ of worry, and her eyebrows were knitted together. “Oh, Liz. Why am I so nervous?”

“I really don’t know, Janie.” Lizzy swivelled around and put her arm around her sister. “You’ve seen so much of Charlie recently, I don’t see why you’re getting worked up about it.”

“I know, it’s just... I’m waiting for something to happen. I really want him to ask me, you know. Ask me properly.”

“You could always ask him?”

Jane blushed prettily under her foundation. “I nearly did the last time I saw him, just before Christmas. I bottled it, though.” 

“You wuss,” Lizzy said gently. “Look, it’s New Year’s Eve. Anything could happen.”

*

The house, thanks to Charlie’s decorating skills, looked incredible. Hundreds of golden balloons had floated up to the ceiling of the living room, giving the room a warm yellowish light. Charlie had tacked up dozens of polaroid pictures of family and friends, and had even brought the polaroid camera down for people to use. The dining table was straining under the weight of all the food and the hundreds of champagne flutes, and fairy lights decked out every room. 

Charlie, Darcy and Georgiana stood, looking proudly at their (Charlie’s) handiwork. Charlie had already changed into his party outfit, a deep blue collared shirt patterned with tiny flowers, paired with smart black trousers and shoes. Georgiana was all set to go to another house party in a short green dress and high heels that she definitely couldn’t walk in. Darcy was still in tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt.

“Looks alright, doesn’t it?” Charlie grinned, his hands planted firmly on his hips.  
“It looks fantastic.” Darcy touched Charlie’s shoulder and went to run upstairs. “I’m going to get ready, people will start arriving soon. Gee, are you sure you don’t need a lift?”

Gee rolled her eyes. “For the last time, I can walk, it isn’t far.”

Charlie laughed and put his arm around Georgiana. “I still don’t know why you’re going to a party that isn’t ours. Wouldn’t you rather hang out with your super cool older brother and his super cool best friend?”

“Super old, more like.” Georgiana chuckled and kissed Charlie on the cheek before leaning up and doing the same to Darcy, grabbing her bag off the banister. “I’m staying over at Louisa’s house afterwards, I’ll be home in the morning. Say bye to Caroline for me. Oh, don’t forget to ring me at midnight!”

She spoke the last words as she wobbled out of the front door in her high heels, shutting behind her. They heard her click down the front steps, and Darcy smiled fondly. “I’m glad she decided to stay for a bit longer, aren’t you?”

Charlie readjusted his glasses. “Absolutely. Although, she does make me feel old sometimes. I forget how different being thirty is to being twenty one.” He looked around, almost grimly, at the decor. “I bet her house party will be slightly different to ours.”  
He leaned against the bannister and looked up at Darcy. “Are you going to talk to Lizzy tonight?”

Darcy blinked. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t be obtuse, you know what I mean.” 

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“Darce, don’t be an idiot.” Charlie joined his friend on the stairs and sat down. “Everyone can see that you like her except for you.”

“I do not-“

“Just, let me talk for a second. You literally admitted your feelings to Lizzy only a few months ago, you saved her little sister from George Wickham, you memorised her coffee order, you bought her that bracelet for Christmas. You even read two bloody Faulkner books just because she likes him, and I know how much you hate Faulkner. You’re friends now, rather than mortal enemies like you seemed to think you were before. What on earth is holding you back?”

“That’s so unfair!” Darcy blew out a huff of air in frustration and began to speak over Charlie, who gave up his protests and listened begrudgingly. “Firstly, it was ages ago that I told her how I felt, and I know for a fact that she doesn’t feel the same. My feelings have... changed.”

“Sure.”

“They have! And I didn’t save Lydia, I’m not a superhero. Lizzy helped just as much as I did.”

“You carried them both out of that horrible flat like a superhero.”

“Plus, I haven’t deliberately memorised her coffee order, I just make it so often that I can’t help but remember it! Even you know her coffee order, and I know Jane and Charlotte’s as well, I’ll have you know.”

“But-“

“I read those books of my own volition, and they’re still awful. And, as for the bracelet. I just...” He sighed. “I just thought she would like it. Look, me and Liz, we would never work out. She’s... she’s so gobby. She smokes like a chimney. And her music taste is weird, don’t you think? It’s all music for old men. And, and-“ Darcy knew he was running out of steam. “Oh, I don’t know. It just wouldn’t work.” 

Charlie raised his eyebrows. He looked like he was about to argue back again, but eventually clapped his hand down on Darcy‘s knee. “Fine. You’ve convinced me.”  
“Really?”  
“No.” 

Suddenly from outside, the sound of voices laughing and feet tapping up the driveway could be heard

“Shit, that must be people arriving.” Charlie leapt up from the stairs and swivelled around to face Darcy, his eyes wide, looking like he was about to start barking military orders. “Go and get changed. Quickly!” 

Darcy tutted and carried on up the stairs.

In his room, Darcy stood in front of the full length mirror and took himself in, evaluating his crisp white shirt and black trousers. He looked at his face, suddenly realising that he wasn’t smiling. Slowly, Darcy forced the corners of his mouth upwards, but instantly dropped them again. Why couldn’t he simply smile like a normal person? He had never realised just how angry he must look on a daily basis.  
He sighed. 

Music drifted up the stairs into his bedroom, accompanied by loud voices and laughter. Darcy strained his ears, but couldn’t hear the voice he wanted to. 

He knew in his heart that everything he had said to Charlie about Elizabeth before were lies, just as well as Charlie knew it. He was simply unwilling to admit it to himself.

“Come on.” Darcy gritted his teeth as he spoke to himself in the mirror. “Buck up.”

He took a deep breath, pushing down the nerves he always felt before a gathering, and opened his bedroom door - only to be met by a sharp, surprised face looking up at him. 

“Oh!”  
“Oh, my- sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Elizabeth’s cheeks were red with embarrassment under her makeup. For a moment, Darcy couldn’t speak - she looked so beautiful. Her hair, usually shoved up into one of those messy buns, was slightly curled and bouncing around her bare shoulders, which looked paler than usual. She was clad in a a silvery top with thin straps and a short, black skirt, a far cry from her usual sweater and jeans. Darcy couldn’t take his eyes off her lips: they were full and red, and slightly open in surprise. 

“Darcy?”

Darcy shocked himself out of his reverie at the sound of Lizzy’s concerned voice. God, he must look like an idiot. 

“Yes, um. Sorry.”  
“No, I’m sorry! I, I haven’t been here for a while, obviously, and I, um, I forgot where the bathroom is.”  
“It’s, ah, just down the hall.” He pointed; his hand was shaking slightly. 

Lizzy looked at his hand, and he quickly clamped it to his side again. She gazed up at him, her cheeks still slightly pink. “Thank you.” 

She went to move past him, looking down. He caught sight of her wrist. 

“You’re wearing the bracelet.”

Lizzy looked down at her arm, almost surprised to see it there. “Um. Yeah. I’ve been wearing it since Christmas Day.”

Darcy felt his heart lurch. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t help it. Darcy smiled, properly smiled; he almost felt like laughing. Lizzy’s blush was finally under control, and she smiled too. “It’s a lovely present. I’m sorry mine was awful in comparison.”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’ve never read any Forster.” He cleated his throat. “And it was your copy as well.”

“Yes.”

“It’s great, Elizabeth. Thank you.”

Lizzy touched the bracelet on her wrist, almost absentmindedly. “I’m glad.” 

The noise downstairs suddenly seemed muffled. Lizzy felt her breath catch in her throat as Darcy swallowed. The couple simultaneously moved towards each other, like they were drawn together. Only a step, but it made Darcy’s heart lurch again, and Lizzy’s stomach felt like a butterfly garden. They stopped, only a few inches away from each other. Lizzy fought to get her breath under control. 

“I should...”  
“Ah, yes. I’ll, um-“  
“Downstairs-“  
“Yes.” 

Darcy looked down and walked past Lizzy, leaving her in the hallway. 

*

Lizzy stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She had only been at the party for ten minutes and was already finding it unbearable to be in Darcy’s presence. She knew that she had to stop acting, stop thinking, like a child; there was nothing truly between her and Fitzwilliam Darcy. They were finally friends, and nothing more. 

She touched her cheeks, willing them to cool down again. Her face was hot beneath her fingers. 

“Come on.” She looked at her reflection determinedly, narrowing her eyes. “You can do this.” 

“Liz?”

Lizzy opened the bathroom door to find Jane outside, holding two glasses of white wine. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes. I’m fine.” Lizzy took one of the glasses from her sister. “Come on, let’s go and get drunk.”

“I’m not drinking too much, Liz!” Jane somehow managed to purse her lips as she spoke. “And I’m certainly not dancing.”

*

“I won’t go breaking your heart, don’t go breaking my, don’t go breaking my, don’t-“  
“The song’s over, Jane!” 

Lizzy laughed uproariously, her hair wild around her face as she clung onto her sister. Jane, for once, had accidentally forgone her no drinking rule. At first she had been reluctant to perform on the karaoke machine with Lizzy, but after much drunken encouragement from almost the whole party, she had wobbled over to the area in front of the fire place, and the two sisters had brought the house down with an ear splitting rendition of ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ - Lizzy, of course, had insisted on being Elton John. 

It was well into the night; the front door had been left open, more and more people joining in with the party. Jane’s face was red and flushed, her hair now pulled back into a loose ponytail. She dropped the microphone before practically falling into Charlie’s waiting arms. They both flopped down onto the nearby sofa, giggling, as other party guests fought over who would sing next. The music and the din from the crowd seemed to grow quiet around them.

“Amazing!” Charlie‘s voice was rapturous. “You have such a great singing voice!”

Jane blushed even darker. “No, no...”

“No, you do!” Charlie swallowed and looked into her bright blue eyes. “You really do.” 

Jane tried to catch her breath; she blinked up at him. His hazel eyes were bright behind his glasses, reflecting in the fairy lights above them. 

“Charlie-“  
“Jane-“  
“Oh, sorry-“  
“No, no-“

The pair both laughed awkwardly and looked down. Charlie recovered first. “You go. What were you going to say?”

Jane’s throat suddenly felt as dry as the Sahara. She cleared her throat, clasping her shaking hands together. “I... I, I feel so juvenile saying this. And, this isn’t because I’ve had a bit to drink, I promise. It’s just... I wanted to say... Will you, I mean, would you...”

She trailed off. Charlie placed his hand over her smaller one gently. “I wouldn’t usually interrupt, but, well. I think I know what you’re trying to say.” He laughed nervously. “Unless I’ve got this catastrophically wrong.” 

“I don’t think you have.”

Their faces were merely inches apart now. The noises from the party were gone. Jane could hear the blood rushing through her head. 

“What were you going to say, then?”

“I was going to say...” Charlie’s eyes seemed to bore into hers. “I was going to say, Charlie Bingley, would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Charlie’s face suddenly opened up in a huge smile, truly stretching from ear to ear. He leaned in further towards Jane. “I would love that, Jane Bennet.” 

“Oh, my- Mary, babe!”  
Mary turned around from the drink table and squinted to where Charlotte was pointing. “What am I looking at?”  
“Jane and Charlie!”

Mary looked over to the over and, sure enough, Jane and Charlie were sat together, locked in a passionate kiss. Mary wrinkled her nose. “Why am I watching my big sister dry hump Charles Bingley?”  
“Mary!” Charlotte was overcome with excitement. “That’s not just any kiss, Bing’s obviously just asked her out properly.”  
“Maybe she asked him.” Mary pondered. She whacked her girlfriend on the arm. “Stop staring! It’s weird.”

Lottie wouldn’t allow Mary’s underwhelming response to sway her. She kissed her on the cheek happily; Mary smiled reluctantly.  
“I’m going to go and find Liz, this is so exciting! Where is she, anyway? She disappeared after the karaoke.” 

*

“The song’s over, Jane!”

Lizzy took a sweeping stage bow and almost fell over, clinging onto Jane and laughing. She removed the pair of Elton John glasses slipping down her nose and returned them to their owner, a friend of Charlie’s who clapped her on the back and commended the commitment to her performance. Brushing her wild hair back from her face, Lizzy laughed breathlessly and made her way over to the drink table, leaving Jane in the arms of Charlie. 

“That was some impressive singing you did there!”

Lizzy turned around, still grinning to herself to see a man, only slightly taller than her, looking back at her. His voice had a slight Irish lilt to it, and his face was arranged into an amused smirk. 

“Thanks!” Lizzy took a sip of her newest glass of wine, before putting her glass down and holding her hand out. “I’m Lizzy, I’m a friend of Charlie’s.”

“I’m Dennis, but call me Denny.” Denny shook her hand firmly, his palm surprisingly soft. “I’m another friend of Charlie’s. How do you know him then?”  
“I work across the road from him and Darcy, opposite Pemberley’s. I own the Emporium, the bookshop.”  
“Ah, that explains why I haven’t met you, then. I hate reading.” Denny grinned, but Lizzy’s smile faltered slightly.  
“Right. And you know Bing from...?”  
“High school. Dated his sister for a while, funnily enough.” He sipped his beer grimly. “Stupid bitch.” 

Lizzy shut her mouth, pursing her lips just like Jane. As much as she disliked Caroline, there was something distasteful in the way this Denny stranger insulted her. “That’s a bit unfair, don’t you think, Dennis?”

Denny cocked his eyebrow at her. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, love, we all know she’s a piece of work.” Lizzy didn’t reply, but turned her head away slightly. 

She could see through the living room into the huge kitchen. In the artificial light, past all the heads of drunken guests, she a tall figure stood with his back to her, leaning on the kitchen island. Her heart knotted itself over and over.

“Hello?”

Lizzy fixed her eyes on the back of Darcy’s dark head. She could feel the nerves fighting their way up her throat as she forced herself to make a decision. Her own words from earlier came back to her: “It’s New Year’s Eve. Anything could happen.”

“Are you deaf?”

Lizzy turned back around to face Denny, who was stood glaring at her with an ugly expression on his face. “What?”  
“I asked if you have a kiss for New Year’s Eve.” He winked sordidly at her. 

Lizzy looked him up and down. “I might, actually, yeah. Find someone else.” 

And with that, Lizzy picked up her wine glass, knocked it down her throat, and began to walk through the party towards the man she was seeking out. She checked the time on her phone. Ten minutes to midnight. Was this really happening? Was she going to do this? 

She still couldn’t see who he was talking to, but she didn’t care. Lizzy would interrupt any conversation that Darcy was having just for the chance to kiss him when the clock struck twelve.

*

Darcy forced himself to stay stood where he was as Caroline rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. The sound of Lizzy and Jane shouting along to Elton John on the karaoke machine was loud and clear from the living room. Darcy had ventured into the kitchen to find himself a beer that wasn’t disgustingly warm, and was smiling to himself at the sound of Lizzy’s singing, until Caroline had decided to join him. 

“Do they have to be so bloody loud?” Caroline sipped her drink with her nose wrinkled. “We’re not students, for God’s sake.”  
“It’s a party, Caroline. We’re also not pensioners.”  
Caroline smirked. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed again, Will? Cheer up, it’s New Year’s Eve.”  
Darcy sighed. “I don’t need you to tell me to cheer up, Caroline, when you’re always so unrelentingly miserable.”

Thankfully, Caroline hadn’t seemed to have heard his last comment. She was peering around him, a distasteful look on her face. “Thank God, they’ve stopped screeching. Oh, look. Your girlfriend’s talking to Dennis. How sweet.”

Darcy swivelled around. Sure enough, Lizzy was stood at the far end of the living room with Denny, who looked as short and mean as ever. “Why’s she talking to that prick?”

“Jealous?” Caroline hummed nastily. Darcy turned back around to face her. 

“What is your problem with Elizabeth, Caroline? I don’t understand what you have against her?”

“What I have against her?” Caroline laughed bitterly. “Don’t you mean what you have against her?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You change your mind about her so much, you’re giving us all whiplash, Will.” Smiling without cheer, Caroline put her glass down on the counter and leaned in towards Darcy slightly. “You hated her when you first met her. Then suddenly you were head over heels for her until she rejected you. Then you swoop in and save her sister like some sort of white knight riding in on a horse, then you practically ignore her existence until Christmas, when you buy her a ridiculous little trinket.”

“How did you-“

“You need to learn to clear your search history, the bracelet came up when I borrowed Charlie’s laptop.”

“I still fail to see how this is any of your concern.”

“It’s interesting to watch.” Caroline narrowed her eyes. “It’s interesting that everyone seems to think that you like her so much, when what I overheard this morning was quite the contrary.”

Darcy’s stomach lurched. “What did you hear?”

Caroline’s smirk widened, making her look wolffish. “She smokes too much. She’s gobby. She has a weird music taste. And I seem to recall something you said at the garden party? What was it exactly?”

“Caroline, that was ages ago.”

“Something about her not being tempting? Or attractive?” She sighed mockingly. “And then today you said your feelings had changed.” 

“I-“

“Have they?”

A voice came from behind Darcy. 

He turned around. Lizzy was stood, her face pale and her hair wild around her shoulders. Darcy had never seen her look so sad. His mouth felt dry when he spoke. 

“Liz, I-“

Lizzy turned and walked away.

Darcy faced Caroline again who, for once in her life, looked shocked. “Fuck you, Caroline.”

“Will, I didn’t know she was there,” Caroline’s eyes were wide. “I promise, I didn’t notice-“

Darcy walked away from her, pushing past people as he strode through the living room. He lost sight of Lizzy for a second, but then saw her with her coat on, shoving abruptly past Lottie and Mary. He pushed more fervently, determined to follow her, stopping the front door from slamming as she left. 

“Lizzy!” Darcy stood on the top step to the house as she practically ran down the driveway to the front gate. “Elizabeth!”

She carried on walking; he could hear her sobbing. Without thinking, Darcy followed her. He reached out to her, he needed to see her face - he grabbed her arm through her coat. Lizzy turned around and slapped him in the face. Pain shot through his jaw like a flame. Lizzy looked down at her shaking hand. Mascara ran down her face in rivulets. 

“So I’m too gobby, am I?” Lizzy wiped her face angrily, smearing her makeup even further. Her voice shook as she spoke, and Darcy knew it wasn’t from the cold. “I’m guessing I’m still not attractive enough for you, yeah? Not tempting enough for the handsome Mr. Darcy, the perfect Mr. Darcy. Just a bit of rough you thought you could have some fun with, right? Is that why you bought me the bracelet, hm? You’ve been laughing at me, at my silly little shop, at my ridiculous family. And your feelings have changed. Well, I’m not surprised, if I’m truly as bad as you make me out to be behind my back-“

“Lizzy, I didn’t mean any of it, I-“ Darcy could hear his own voice full of desperation. Lizzy cut across him, almost screaming with anger and frustration.

“So why say it if you don’t mean it?” She began crying again, letting the tears fall freely. “You know, I was coming to find you to tell you how I felt. I wanted to say sorry again for how I treated you, how awful I was to you, but I guess I don’t need to bother anymore.” She let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I was coming to tell you that I love you.”

From inside the house, and from all down the street, they could both hear the countdown to the new year begin. 

“Ten...nine...eight...”

“Elizabeth,” Darcy’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. The... the way I feel. It hasn’t changed.”

“Seven...six...five...”

“I don’t believe you.” Lizzy shook her head defeatedly. “This is too difficult. It shouldn’t have to be this difficult.”

“Four...three...two...”

“Elizabeth.”

“One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Fireworks suddenly burst into the sky, illuminating the darkness and throwing the pair into artificial, rainbow light. The garbled sounds of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ began drifting out from almost every house, the song floating it’s way up into the night sky. 

Lizzy looked up at the fireworks above their heads, then back at Darcy. He couldn’t speak.

“Happy New Year, Darcy.” 

She turned and walked away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this was a hefty chapter!
> 
> we are almost at the end of the ride guys, it’s all coming together! sorry for the horrible mix of fluff and angst in this chapter, i’ve almost upset myself with it 
> 
> hope you are all well xx


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: i am aware that some people may have had concerns about lizzy slapping darcy in the last chapter. i just want to be absolutely clear - in NO way do i condone physical violence towards other people. please remember, this is a work of fiction. my version of lizzy is not supposed to be a perfect person, just as the original elizabeth bennet from the mind of jane austen wasn’t either. i don’t want any of my readers to think that it is okay that lizzy slapped darcy, because it isn’t. 
> 
> please separate fiction from reality. i am not someone who condones any sort of violence towards ANYONE, and, as someone who has previously been in an abusive relationship, i deeply resent anyone implying that i think it is okay. lizzy is not a perfect person and, as you will hopefully go on to read, she will realise the error of her ways. i appreciate all constructive criticism, but please know that i am not condoning domestic violence in any way, shape or form.

“Hello? Liz, I’m home!”

Lizzy groaned and rolled over to peer over the top of the sofa. Jane stepped into the flat, toeing her shoes off as she walked. She was wearing the same dress as the night before, under a large jumper than Lizzy didn’t recognise. Her interest was piqued.  
“What sort of time do you call this?” She checked her watch slyly. Ten in the morning. “Where have you been, you little rebel?” 

Jane put her bag down, moved her shoes onto the shoe rack, lined them up neatly, checked her hair in the mirror. All very measured movements. Then, suddenly, she practically leapt around the sofa and sat down next to Lizzy, beaming. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. 

“Oh, Liz! Lizzy, I... I asked Charlie out.”  
“No way!” Lizzy exclaimed. It was easy to see how happy Jane was, it was written all over her face. Lizzy managed to push down her own lingering anger and regret to celebrate her sister’s happiness. “What happened?”

“Well,” Jane was still beaming, absentmindedly holding the necklace from Charlie in her fingers. “After we sung that song on the karaoke machine, I sat down with him to get my breath back. The way he was looking at me... I’ve never been looked at like that before, like I’m the complete centre of someone’s universe. And I was about to ask him but almost didn’t, then he prompted me to say it because he already knew it was coming! Not in a cocky way, but as if... like we both knew it was inevitable at that point. So I asked him.” She looked down at Lizzy’s hands, smiling. “And he said yes!”

Lizzy threw her arms around her big sister. “Oh, Janie. This is wonderful.”

Jane pulled back and wiped her eyes. “I can hardly breathe, I’m so happy.” She have a little laugh. “Gosh, if I react like this to simply getting a boyfriend, imagine when he proposes.” She suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean when, I meant if! I’m not trying to imply-“  
“Jane,” Lizzy chucked. “It’s fine. I reckon you’ve found the one, truly.”  
Jane visibly relaxed. “I think so too.” 

“So...” Lizzy waggled her eyebrows suggestively, that movement alone making her sister blush. “You stayed over then?”  
“Yes...”  
“And did you-?”  
“No!” Jane smiled furtively. “I slept in his bed, that’s all. We’d both had a bit to drink last night, neither of us thought it was right.”  
Lizzy raised her eyebrows. “Wow. Good on you.” 

The two women sat peacefully, Jane’s head resting on Lizzy’s shoulder, for a few moments. Then, Jane lifted her head. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t even ask if you’re okay.” She sat up properly. “Are you okay?”

Lizzy looked into her sister’s beautiful, worried face. She smiled and tried to sound convincing. “Yeah, I’m... I’m fine.”  
“Really?”

Then, to her complete surprise, Lizzy began to sob and sob and sob like she would never be able to stop. “Jane, I’ve fucked up so much.”

“No, no!” Jane pulled Lizzy in close, stroking her dark hair. “Shhh, it’s okay. What happened with Darcy?”

“How do you know it’s about Darcy?”

“Liz, we all saw you leave the party, then we all saw him pushing past everyone and following you. Then he came back in to the house after the countdown and started drinking like a sailor. What happened?”

Lizzy wiped her nose on her shirt. Jane pursed her lips and handed her a tissue. “How do you always have tissues?” Lizzy grumbled, her voice muffled.  
“Emergencies.” Jane’s sat patiently as she waited for Lizzy to sort herself out. Eventually, she cleaned her face up and stopped the worst of the crying. She sighed and squinted at Jane through her red eyes.

“I was talking to this awful man Denny, he’s an old friend of Bing’s. He was just really rude and nasty about Caroline, and I stood up for her for some reason. I wanted to get away from the little scrotum, so I decided to go and find Darcy. I wanted to find him so... so I could tell him that I love him.”

Jane gasped. “Really?”

“Really. He was in the kitchen so I started walking towards him, and I could see that he was talking to someone but I didn’t know who. Then, as I got closer, I saw that it was Caroline. I didn’t mean to overhear what she said, honestly, but I couldn’t help listening.” She broke off.

“What did she say?” Jane’s eyes were filled with worry as she kept her eyes on Lizzy’s tear-stained face.

Lizzy sniffed. “She said... she said that Darcy had called me gobby. He didn’t think I was attractive. Insulting me, basically. Again. And then that his feelings had changed.”

“And I’m guessing that’s when you left and he followed you?”

“Yep. He followed me outside, he grabbed my arm. I... I slapped him.”

“You slapped him?” Jane reeled back. “Liz, you can’t go around slapping people who upset you, it isn’t right!”

“I know!” Lizzy groaned miserably. “I know. I shouldn’t have. He looked so hurt. But, I was so angry and so embarrassed. I told him that I had come to tell him I loved him. He just stood there.”

“Did he say anything?”

“He said the way he feels hasn’t changed. But he was probably just saying that to spare my feelings because I caught him out.” Her empty gaze at the threadbare sofa hardened. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have got my hopes up because of that stupid bracelet.”

Jane looked down at Lizzy’s wrist. “Where is it?”

“I took it off. It’s in my drawer somewhere, I just shoved it in there when I got home last night.”

Jane didn’t speak. It was her silence that finally made Lizzy be able to pinpoint the emotion swallowing her up: shame. 

“Jane.” Her voice cracked. “I’ve been so stupid. I was just so hurt, so embarrassed by him and by how I felt about him.”

Jane took Lizzy’s hand. Lizzy didn’t look at her. “Lizzy, I need to be honest with you right now, even if you might not want to hear it. Not everybody in the world is after you. Darcy is a nice person, and I think you’ve taken him for granted. I know that you find it difficult to acknowledge how you feel sometimes, but you can’t use Darcy to vent all of your frustrations. He really likes you, but you have to ask yourself for how much longer? You know in your heart how you feel about him, so don’t pull him towards you then push him away again. It isn’t fair.” 

*

A few days passed slowly. Lizzy felt like she spent the entire time on the sofa in the tiny living room, staring into space. Whenever she did get up, it felt like she was walking in a dream, barely able to move her feet. Jane had advised her to text or call Darcy, but she left her phone off. Her hand contained a phantom sting from where it had connected with Darcy’s face on New Year’s Eve.

Jane occasionally left the flat then returned within a few hours. In the back of her mind, Lizzy knew that she was going to see Charlie, and that she should probably ask how it was all going with him. But she didn’t. She just lay on the sofa, the television on but muted, sometimes an abandoned book in her lap. 

Lizzy’s dreams were full of Darcy. She often woke up, racked with an overwhelming feeling of guilt, thinking that he was in her room, holding his face in pain. 

“You’re a coward, Lizzy Bennet.” Lizzy muttered to herself after the third day of wallowing in her own resentment. “You’re a fucking coward.”

Lizzy knew that she was handling the situation in possibly the worst way she could. But that had been her entire life so far - avoidance. Avoiding any serious relationships, avoiding putting real hard work into her degree, avoiding the obvious money problems with the shop. Avoiding her true feelings, avoiding giving any apologies that were owed. 

“A coward.”

“Liz?”

Jane’s voice sounded slightly faint from behind the sofa. 

“Yeah?”  
“Someone’s here to see you.”

Lizzy’s heart leapt into her mouth. Was he here? Why had he bothered? 

She sat up and peered over the back of the sofa. A tall, slim woman in a dark blue pantsuit stood just inside of the flat, her dark red hair twisted into a bun. Her cheeks were red; it was a freezing, windy night, and she looked as though she had been battling through the weather for a while.

“Caroline?”  
“Hi.”

The two woman gazed at each other for a beat too long, until Jane broke the tension by brightly offering to make tea, practically sprinting into the kitchen. 

Caroline, for once, didn’t seem sure of herself. She hovered in the hallway, twisting her fingers around the strap of her expensive-looking handbag. Lizzy day up, trying to flatten her unwashed hair down slightly. “Sit down, Caroline.”  
“Thank you.”

Looking around her as if anything she touched might break, Caroline edged around the sofa and sat gingerly on the armchair opposite Lizzy. Lizzy noticed that she wasn’t wearing the disgusted look that seemed to be her permanent expression. Jane bustled back through with two cups of tea, before making some excuse about needing to work on a commission, going back upstairs, but not before she had thrown a concerned glance in Lizzy’s direction. 

Lizzy waited until she heard the door to Jane’s studio shut before she spoke. “What are you doing here?”

Caroline picked up her mug, then put it back down. She looked around again, awkwardly, then crossed and uncrossed her long legs. “I...”

“Is this about Charlie and Jane?”

“What?” Caroline’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, not at all.”

“Because if you’re here to tell me that you don’t approve of Jane dating your brother, I think I already know that.”

“No, I-“

“Oh wait, or is this you coming to reiterate what you said at the New Year’s party? When you saw me behind Darcy and decided to make it very clear what he thinks about me?”

“No!” Caroline raised her voice, her usual irritation seemingly returned. “God, will you let me speak?”

Lizzy shut her mouth and narrowed her eyes. Caroline sighed. “I came here to apologise for that night. I honestly, truly didn’t know you were behind him.”

Lizzy snorted harshly. “I find that very hard to believe, given how much you don’t like me.”

“Lizzy, I...” Caroline held the bridge of her nose with two fingers, like she had a headache. She didn’t speak for a while. Lizzy felt at a loss for what to say. Finally, Caroline raised her head again. “Look. I’m fucking miserable, okay? I hate my job, I hate where I live, and it’s made me into an angry person. I grew up with Charlie and Darcy, and, even though Charlie’s my brother, I feel like he just doesn’t like me. Never has. He was always so sunny and friendly, and I just couldn’t work out how he did it. And as for Darcy, I know for a fact that he doesn’t like me anymore. I... I don’t know if you know this or not, but Darcy and I. We... dated.”

Lizzy, who had been sipping her tea, suddenly swallowed it the wrong way and coughed. She spluttered for a bit, waving off Caroline’s ineffectual flapping. When she finally recovered, eyes streaming, she put her mug down. “You and... and Darcy?”

“Yes. In high school.” Caroline suddenly looked so sad that Lizzy’s first instinct was to go and give her a hug, but she stayed rooted to her seat. “I was head over heels for him. I’m actually the older twin out of me and Charlie, and they always say that the older one is the most confident, the most popular, the one with the most control. I know it might seem that way, but really I’m not. And it was the same in high school, college. I never really made my own friends, so I had to hang out with whoever Charlie and Will’s friends were at the time, and they never really wanted me around. Even Wickham couldn’t pretend to like me. I think...” She broke off into a strangled sort of sobbing noise. “I think Will felt sorry for me. When Charlie and I both turned seventeen and Will was almost eighteen, he asked me out on a date. We started hanging out, just the two of us. I was so happy, I... I loved him so much. I was so young. He was my first kiss, my first... everything.” 

Lizzy could hardly believe what she was hearing. Caroline had never appeared this vulnerable; she suddenly looked small, almost shrunken, inside her posh suit, and Lizzy saw the Caroline Bingley from high school. Lonely, unpopular. Desperate to be loved. 

“We were only together for a few months before he told me he didn’t want anything serious. I was so stupid, I had talked about our future together. Will probably only dated me because I was there, in front of him, easy to reach. Being unpopular made me ambitious, I wanted to move to London and make a name for myself, be rich and successful. With him. But all Will ever wanted was to have a quiet life with his sister. I knew it would never work, and, after his parents died... something changed in him. His main focus was Georgiana. I didn’t exist to him anymore. So, before he could do it, I dumped him. Stupidly, I dated Denny for a bit, the guy you were talking to at the party, in a sort of juvenile attempt to make Will jealous, but he was so wrapped up in looking after Georgiana he hardly noticed. I went to university in London, Charlie went away to Southampton for a bit. Will stayed in Bristol. And that’s that.” 

She had been avoiding eye contact with Lizzy the whole time, instead staring at her untouched mug of tea on the coffee table. Finally, she brought her gaze up and looked at Lizzy, determination clear in her eyes.

“I’ve been so childish. I’m almost thirty years old and I haven’t been able to get over this stupid infatuation for a man who now only sees me as a sister. Or, not even a sister. Barely even a friend. A nuisance. And then you came into his life and he just... opened up again. Even when you were both arguing or not speaking, it was plain to see that he was attracted to you. And you, Lizzy, you’re so... open. You’re funny and beautiful, you have a quirky little bookshop. And you’re happy. I just assumed that if I made a lot of money and had nice clothes and a flat in London, it would make me happy. But I’m not. Frankly, I was jealous of you from the beginning.”

“Jealous? Of me?” Lizzy could hardly speak. “But you’re, you’re...”

“Rich and successful and fucking miserable.” Caroline’s voice was so bitter it made Lizzy wince. “I feel like I’m never going to move on from him. Nobody compares.” She suddenly smiled sadly. “But I shouldn’t try to stop you. It would be evil of me to get in the way of you and him. I hope you believe me when I say I never meant for this to happen, I wouldn’t want you to think of me like that.” 

Lizzy tried to digest what Caroline was telling her. As she considered the strange woman that had been so nasty, so spiteful to her, Lizzy still could not bring herself to like her. But she definitely pitied her, which is what prompted her to finally speak.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, Caroline. That you’re still going through that. I had no idea.”

Caroline huffed and smiled gingerly. “How could you? It’s not exactly like I’ve been very accommodating towards you.”

“I understand why you weren’t, though. And I’m glad that you’ve been honest. Thank you.”

Caroline looked down at her fingers and stayed silent. Lizzy thought of Darcy, and felt like crying.

“Look, Caroline.” She tried to choke back tears, but couldn’t stop a few from falling. “It’s okay, what happened on New Year’s Eve. I believe you. And, anyway, it isn’t like you’re standing in the way of anything.” Her voice broke. “Nothing’s going to happen between me and Darcy now. He won’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“Why not?”

Lizzy’s hand itched as she thought about the shock on Darcy’s face when she slapped him. “Because I’ve treated him so badly. I was so scared to let myself feel anything for him that I lashed out. And now I’ve fucked it all up.” 

Tears began to flow freely down Lizzy’s face, and she inwardly cursed herself for being so weak. She didn’t realise that Caroline had come to sit next to her until she felt a bony hand on her shoulder. Lizzy turned and looked straight into Caroline’s pinched face, which was, for the first time, lined with true concern.

“Elizabeth. Lizzy, I... go and see him. I’ve been so bitter. My feelings for Darcy are nothing to do with you, I shouldn’t have been so horrible to you because of my own childish spite. He loves you, anyone can see it. I know you think he hates you, but I’m telling you, he truly doesn’t. Are you ever going to find someone you have this connection to again, this passion and chemistry? Just go to him. Go and find him.”

Lizzy wiped her eyes. “Where is he?” Her voice had sunk to a whisper.

“He’s at the coffee shop now. It’s closed, he drove there to collect some things. He’ll still be there. If you go now, you’ll be able to catch him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are almost at the end my lovelies! 
> 
> since i started this story, i always wanted some sort of redemption for caroline. i felt sorry for her when i first read pride & prejudice because i felt like she was the ‘mean girl’ and nothing else, so i hope this gives her a new light 
> 
> love to you all


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE

The wind was so unrelenting and cold that Lizzy’s face felt like it was being slashed with a knife. Caroline had left soon after she had told Lizzy to find Darcy, insistent that she walk home. Jane had tried to pry information from Lizzy on what Caroline had said, but Lizzy had somehow felt as though she was walking inside a bubble. Everything was hazy, apart from the one thing she knew: she had to find Darcy. 

She was struggling against the wind. The sky was completely black, no stars looking down on her. Finally, Lizzy reached the corner that led onto the road where she worked. Squinting against the whipping wind, she could see that all of the shops along the street opposite the Emporium were dark - except for one. 

Pemberley’s had a light on inside, but as Lizzy drew nearer, she realise that it was only one light that was on, the one behind the front counter. Praying that the door wouldn’t be locked, she rattled the handle. It stuck on the hinges, but opened with a push. The café was eerie in the silence. Chairs were upside down on top of tables and the scent of bleach was strong, making Lizzy’s nose itch. 

“Hello?” 

Her voice echoed into the empty shop. For some reason, her heart began beating faster. Was she scared?

Something caught her eye. A piece of paper on top of the counter, sat directly under one of the hanging lights, like it had been placed there just for her to see. Tentatively, she moved towards it. She looked around. Still nobody. With shaking hands, Lizzy picked up the paper and began reading.

‘Dear Elizabeth,

‘What a fine mess this is. I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am for making you upset. But I also cannot be with someone who isn’t ready for what I have to offer. When you slapped me, (at the risk of sounding too cheesy and poetic) you broke my heart. You think that my feelings have changed - they haven’t. 

‘I don’t know what it is about you. Actually, that is a blatant lie. Can you tell I didn’t plan this before I wrote it? I know exactly what it is: I have never met anybody like you before. You are an extraordinary woman, and every single day I regret not seeing that sooner. It is just as much my fault as it is yours that you think the way you do about me. I was quick to judge and tarnish you; you were headstrong and prejudiced. Both of us have made mistakes. And, usually, mistakes can sort themselves out - but I am finding it increasingly difficult to get out of this mess. 

‘The feelings I have for you are still there, even more so than they were before. You have turned my life upside down, Lizzy. But I don’t think those feelings are enough to carry me through.’

Lizzy had to stop reading; the tears in her eyes were blinding her, and she tried to blink them away. The edges of the paper crumpled between her fingers. 

“Have you finished reading?”

Startled, Lizzy let out a yelp and jumped, turning around. Darcy was stood, light streaming out from behind him, in the doorway to the store room next to the coffee counter. He stepped towards her, and Lizzy noticed how deep in shadow his eyes were. 

“Have you finished reading?” He repeated.

“No.” She whispered.

“Keep going.”

Crying freely now, Lizzy looked back down at the letter and continued reading, the letter shaking in her fists. 

‘I love you, Elizabeth, but it isn’t enough. Maybe we met at the wrong time in our lives, and perhaps if we had met earlier, or later, it would have been able to work. But I can’t continue dancing around you, wondering if you’ll decide to tolerate me today or not. It is simply too difficult, and love should not have to be this difficult. 

‘I can’t call this a break-up, because we were never really together. But I cannot carry on with whatever it is we may have had. Georgiana is leaving tomorrow morning for Thailand, and I am going with her. The shop is staying in Charles’ hands. You will not see me for a while. 

‘I shall miss you, Elizabeth.  
All of my love,  
Fitzwilliam Darcy.’ 

Lizzy could hardly breathe. She looked up. Darcy was stood even closer to her, his lips pressed together firmly. 

“I was going to give that to Charlie to deliver to you.”

His hands flexed by his sides. Lizzy wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her hand shaking.

“Thailand?”

“Yes.” Darcy’s voice was hoarse. “She has a job over there, it’s why she left Bristol in the first place. I’ve always wanted to go, so I figured now is as good a time as any.” 

“And I’m supposed to believe that you’re not leaving because of me?”

Darcy sighed heavily. “It is... partly you. I need to clear my head, Elizabeth. And this city holds too many ghosts for me and Georgiana. I need some time away.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does Charlie know?”

“Yes. I told him yesterday. It was all very last minute.” 

Lizzy felt herself sway slightly. Darcy moves towards her, but she held up her hand and he stopped. Her head was pounding and her eyes stung as she blinked away more tears. She felt numb. 

“Darcy.” Lizzy looked at his hands. They were once again clenched by his sides. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I slapped you, I’m sorry I overreacted, I’m sorry I messed you around. I’ve been such a fool.”

“It’s okay.”

She looked down at the letter. “I love you too.”

“I know.” Slowly, ever so slowly, Darcy moved towards her. He held out his hand to her. She gazed at it. 

“We just aren’t ready for each other, Lizzy. Not yet.” 

His hand was shaking. Lizzy remembered the first time she ever saw Darcy, all those months ago. How strong his hands looked holding those boxes. She almost felt like laughing at how little she knew about him back then, and how ignorant she was about what was to come, what would happen between them. 

Lizzy took his hand. She looked up at him, and saw his dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The weak light from behind the counter illuminated the golden flecks within the black. 

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “I think I have some growing up to do.”

Darcy gave a small, watery chuckle. “And I think I need to grow down a bit. Hey, at least Jane and Charlie are happy.”

Lizzy laughed too, then, and she cried as well. She suddenly and overwhelmingly felt like she would never stop crying, like the tears would never dry up. Darcy’s hand was warm over hers, and she squeezed it tighter. 

“I’m glad they’re happy. And I hope you’re happy staying with Georgiana for however long you do.”

Simultaneously, like they had decided it beforehand, the pair moved apart and walked towards the front door of the shop. 

Darcy turned off the light at the wall before allowing Lizzy to step outside first. Lizzy waited whilst he locked the door. She shivered in the cold air. Darcy pulled his jacket tighter around him.

“When’s your flight?”

“Five, tomorrow morning. Georgiana still hasn’t packed.”

“Sounds a lot like Lydia.” The implication of that sentence hung, heavy and strong, in the air. “I didn’t mean-“

“I know. I know what you meant.” Darcy smiled gently. “They’re both safe now.”

“Thanks to you.”

He looked down at his shoes, then caught her eye. Lizzy felt like if she said one wrong word, the floodgates would open again. 

“Maybe...” He hesitated for a moment too long. “Maybe, when I get back, we can... go and get a coffee.”

That suggestion was so simple, so easy, and yet seemed to far away and impossible, that Lizzy laughed. A real laugh. “Only if it’s from Pemberley’s.”

“Of course.” He smiled sadly. “I know your order.” 

Lizzy’s mouth opened slightly. Darcy looked down briefly at her lips, then back up to her face. 

“Can I give you a lift home?”

Lizzy looked around. “You don’t have your car.”

Darcy looked as well, seeming surprised. “Oh. It seems I don’t.” He turned his head back to her, looking almost as if he was going to hug her. Lizzy wished he would. She willed herself to gain the courage to lean in and pull him tightly towards her. But instead, she stood where she was, and drank him in. 

“So, this is goodbye, then?”

“For now.” Darcy corrected her. 

“Okay, then. Goodbye. For now.”

“Goodbye, for now.”

Lizzy walked away slowly, and heard him step away as well.

She turned back around when she was a few paces away. “Goodbye, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

She watched him turn his head and look over his shoulder. His face broke into a beam, a smile that Lizzy had never seen before, a smile brighter than the moon and all of the stars put together. 

“Goodbye,” he shouted back. “Elizabeth Bennet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAHHHH I’M SO SORRY !!! 
> 
> i wrote these last three chapters in bulk over the course of a few days and spent some time editing/tweaking before i posted them. so, here ya go - another surprise upload! 
> 
> ngl this made me tear up slightly watching this so massive apologies if it did the same for you
> 
> big love to you all


	25. AFTER

One thing that Lizzy had never previously realised was how many things could change over the course of not even a full year.

After Darcy left England, the chilly entrance of February prompted Lizzy’s decision that the shop was struggling far too much to be left to its own devices. After a depressing but necessary phone call with Mr. Bennet, Lizzy woefully decided that she would allow her shop, her beautiful, messy, tiny shop, to be taken over by a bigger company. By the end of the summer, after many tears, trials and tribulations, Longbourne Book Emporium was no more.

Lizzy still, on weekends, occasionally stood in front of the new Waterstones on the high street, remembering how it looked when the cracks on the walls were covered with posters; when the shelves were creaky and wonky; when there were cardboard boxes taking up every inch of space behind the counter. She usually stood there, reminiscing for a moment or two, before crossing the road to go into Pemberley’s.

Once there, she would take out her laptop and dive straight into her PGCE work. After the shop closed, Lizzy had been through a brief existential crisis, cursing her past self’s decision to study English Literature - until Jane had suggested that she explore the path of teaching. The idea of teaching had always appealed to Lizzy, but it had simply been easier to take over her father’s shop. Well, now she had no excuse not to pursue it. She was working as a trainee English teacher at a local school, Meryton High. “Weird name,” Lottie had said when Lizzy had announced her new career path. Lizzy had simply shrugged and agreed that, yes, it was a weird name for a high school, but most of the kids were still lovely. Lottie had found a job at a bar, her experience as a bartender during university helping her seal the deal, and was relishing in her rediscovered love of mixing drinks and pulling pints rather than stamping prices onto dusty books.

As Lizzy would sit with her work at a corner table in Pemberley’s, Lydia would usually come over with a free drink. After the traumatic events from before Christmas, Lydia thankfully had decided that she should probably get a job for the first time in her life, and perhaps actually start doing her university assignments. She had humbly stepped into Pemberley’s and asked Charlie if there were any jobs going - and Charlie was more than happy to comply. He trained Lydia up himself, and the two became inseparable. Lydia had always been the baby of the family and was treated as such, but Lizzy had noticed a change in her little sister. It was obvious that sometimes she was still haunted by what could have happened on that terrible night - but she had finally grown up and stopped expecting everything to be handed to her on a plate. Sure, she still chopped between career ideas as fast as lightning and occasionally had a tantrum when things didn’t go her way, but with Lydia’s growth, Lizzy found herself actually liking her youngest sister rather than just loving her. 

On work days in Pemberley’s, Charlie would eventually free himself from the coffee machines and bounce over to the table to greet Lizzy, grinning. He had always been the happy-go-lucky type, ever since Lizzy first met him in Pemberley’s before it even had a name. But by the time the Summer was fading away, he was even happier, with the prospect of a tiny Bingley on the way. 

When Jane had confessed that she was pregnant to Lizzy one night in early September, Lizzy had cried so hard that she thought that flat might fall down. Then Jane had started crying, then Charlie had come over and started crying too, until all three adults were wailing like babies. The trajectory of Jane and Charlie’s relationship may have seemed rushed to any third party (including Mr. Bennet, who grumbled that he barely knew the father of his future grandchild) but Lizzy knew that Jane had finally, finally, found the person that she would spend the rest of her life with. After only two months of being an official couple, Charlie invited Jane to move in with him - he had told Lizzy quietly, soon after Darcy and Georgiana left, that the house felt so big and empty it was almost scary. So, Jane moved in. And that was another way that Lizzy knew Jane and Charlie were right for each other: he stopped her being so cautious. With every other man that she had dated or had an interest in, Jane was always unwilling to make the next step, always so ready to see every problem that could appear down the road. But, with Charlie, it seemed that they were perfect for each other. 

This meant that Lizzy had her own flat now. She definitely missed having Jane around all the time, but it was also nice to finally have her own space. And, anyway, Jane still came round a lot. In fact, the night that she had told Lizzy she was pregnant, she had come round for a wine and film night. Lizzy realised that she had accidentally polished off a bottle by herself and that Jane hadn’t drunk a single drop - and Jane couldn’t keep a straight face when Lizzy asked why. 

Nobody in the Bennet family cried more than Mrs. Bennet upon hearing the news, about a week after Lizzy was informed. Jane had thought that the phone might break from the force of her mother’s sobs, before she heard Mr. Bennet leading his wife to the sofa for a lie down. He had taken the phone off her, and congratulated his eldest daughter profusely, his voice cracking slightly at the prospect of becoming a grandfather. Mrs. Bennet had then recovered rapidly in order to ask when the pair were getting married - Jane had mustered up the courage to confess that they were in fact not planning on getting married. She could almost hear her mother purse her lips down the phone, but she was over the moon nonetheless. 

Lottie had cried, Mary had cried, Kitty had cried. Lydia had laughed and asked that, if she were to be made godmother, would she have to look after the kid when Charlie and Jane popped their clogs? Charlie had simply rolled his eyes and hugged her before going to call Darcy.

Lizzy was under no illusions that Charlie wasn’t still in contact with Darcy and Georgiana. Of course he was, they were basically his family. But she had told herself not to ask about either of them, and Charlie seemed to have read her mind and never brought them up. Lizzy didn’t know how much Darcy had told his best friend about the night before he left for Thailand - she certainly hadn’t even told Jane or Lottie about all the details - but she was grateful when he didn’t ask. Charlie was a fantastic friend who had a magic way with coffee and gave great hugs, and Lizzy couldn’t have been more grateful that he was now part of her family. 

*

Lizzy found herself thinking just that, about how lovely Charlie was, as she watched him hold Jane’s handbag open for her just outside the venue, a beautiful Georgian mansion surrounded by grass that had frosted over and looked silver in the cold, so she could root around for her camera. She wondered what it would feel like if she had someone to hold her handbag open, or to check the back of her dress for creases, or to smile fondly at as the wedding vows were recited. 

On a chilly day in mid December, almost a year since the awful night in the coffee shop, Elizabeth Bennet was at a wedding with no date. 

Of course, as Lottie’s maid of honour, she had had almost no time to hunt around for a date anyway. There was another trainee teacher, Thomas, at Meryton who had obviously been interested in her. All of the Bennet girls had pushed Lizzy into going on a date with him, which had turned out to be excruciatingly awkward and ended with Thomas putting his elbow in a bowl of dip at the low-rate Mexican restaurant he had taken her to. Now, they only communicated with awkward smiled and nods around the school corridors. With regards to dating, Lizzy’s year had been barren. 

When she was caught off guard in her new solitary life at home, in a rare moment of self-reflection, Lizzy would find herself not minding being single for another year. Nobody really caught her eye, and that was okay. It was completely fine that she lived alone at the age of twenty-seven and didn’t have a boyfriend. 

And it was also completely fine that she occasionally thought about him. Because who wouldn’t, when put in her position? 

It was fine that she found herself wondering if he had met anyone in Thailand, or when he would come back to Bristol, or if he would come back at all. 

And it was fine that she would sometimes pull out her phone and wish she hadn’t deleted all the texts she ever got from him. Sometimes she would type out a message (simply a ‘Hi’, or maybe a ‘How are you?’), but it would always end up deleted. 

He probably didn’t even think about her. 

It was all fine. 

This was it, this was Lottie and Mary’s big day, and Lizzy would not allow herself to be distracted by thoughts of a man whom she had realised she loved just under a year ago, but was no longer a part of her life. 

And that, of course, was also completely fine. 

Being a maid of honour had turned out to be exhausting, especially when both Lizzy and Lottie were two of the most unorganised people who could ever become best friends. As a result, Jane and Mary ended up organising most of the wedding, with Lizzy and Lottie ineffectually choosing a font for the menu (which Jane changed) and working out seating arrangements (which Mary reordered). Lizzy was eternally grateful that, when she arrived on the morning of the actual wedding in the lovely old mansion just outside of Bristol, there was no cake-testing to be done, no dresses to try on, and no vows to practice for the hundredth time. The caterers had everything food related under control, and Lydia was quite happy to march about with a clipboard, ‘organising’ the decorations being put up for the reception. 

Of course, Lizzy had been required to help get Lottie ready, whilst Jane, Kitty and Lydia were with Mary, but Lottie was thankfully very low-maintenance. She had given up on taming her curly hair and was completely at ease letting her mother do her makeup for her. Consequently, Lizzy had been left in the lurch, hovering around with a dressing gown over her wedding outfit with nothing to do, so Lottie had let her off the hook and told her to “go and mingle outside”. 

“Ground control to Major Lizzy, come in Major Lizzy.”

Lizzy started and turned around. Caroline was stood next to her, looking elegant with her new short hair and long red dress. She was stood with her arms crossed, her eyebrows raised.

“Hm?”

“Oh, good, you are alive.” Caroline giggled slightly. “You looked really zoned out and strange, so I thought I’d come and save you before you got sectioned.” 

“God,” Lizzy put her hand to her head. “I didn’t even realise. Thanks, I don’t really think a straight jacket would suit this outfit.”

“It’s lovely, by the way!” Caroline approvingly took in Lizzy’s dark green jumpsuit. “Stood together, we look like a pair of Christmas baubles.” 

Lizzy considered her companion as Caroline took in the exterior of the venue, shivering slightly due to her lack of an outer layer. She probably thought a jacket would have ruined the appearance of the dress. It was difficult to believe that little over a year ago, Lizzy would have easily said that she hated her. When she looked back on her relationship with Caroline, Lizzy realised how unhappy Charlie’s sister must have been, and how unfair it was of Lizzy herself to tarnish her so harshly. Caroline was a strange person: so frosty and mean on the outside, yet so insecure and fragile on the inside. She was actually a deeply good person behind all the bravado, Lizzy had found out, and their friendship had slowly but surely blossomed after the night Caroline came to the flat. 

“Oh, Liz.” Caroline tapped Lizzy’s arm to get her attention. There was a very tall man in a light suit stood next to Caroline, handing her a drink. “This is Tremaine. My, ahem. My boyfriend.” 

Tremaine smiled at Lizzy and shook her hand. “Hi, Lizzy. I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Oh, I’ve heard an awful lot about you as well!”

When Tremaine wasn’t looking, Lizzy dropped a stage wink to Caroline, who blushed. Caroline was still working at her miserable job, but she confessed that she had started to find it a lot less miserable since a “handsome bloke called Tremaine” had been transferred from a different branch. They hadn’t been together long, but Lizzy had never seen Caroline more happy than when she was talking about him. 

“God, why did Lottie and Mary decide on a winter wedding?” Lizzy grumbled, pulling her jacket around her tighter. “Lottie hates winter.”

“You know Lottie though, she always wants to do things as soon as humanly possible.” Jane was suddenly behind Lizzy, holding Charlie’s hand. Lizzy rolled her eyes. 

“Do you two have to be so disgustingly cute?” 

“Yes.” Charlie grinned. Lizzy stuck her tongue out at him. As Jane took a sip of her sparkling water, Lizzy could see a minuscule, barley-there swell in her midriff through the fabric of the dark green dress that matched Lizzy’s jumpsuit. She smiled to herself, thinking about her potential niece or nephew. Lizzy began wondering what her kids would end up looking like. What would her own kids look like, if she had any? More like her, or more like...

She suddenly caught sight of a dark head of hair in the distance, elevated slightly higher than the rest of the crowd nearer the front of the venue due to the man’s height. Lizzy couldn’t see his body, only the back of his head and the broad shoulders it was attached to. Her heart skipped. 

The man turned around, and her stomach sank. Someone else. Of course it wasn’t him, Lizzy scolded herself; he would still be in Thailand. Surely, she would have been told if he was coming back? 

“Liz?”

Or, perhaps not. 

“Lizzy.”   
“Hm?”

Jane was touching her arm. Lizzy had zoned out again, and when she came back to the group in front of her, she realised they were all looking at her. She blushed. “Yeah, sorry. What is it?”

“You and I need to go in, the ceremony starts in half an hour.” 

“Oh, of course.” 

Lizzy said a slightly spacey goodbye to her companions and began to make her way towards the house with Jane.

“What’s wrong?” Jane’s face had reverted back to its usual expression of worried concern, which immediately made Lizzy feel bad. 

“No, nothing.” Jane raised her eyebrows. “Nothing! I’m fine. I’m excited!”

Relenting, Jane smiled broadly. “Me too. Who would have thought that Mary would be the first Bennet girl to get married?”

“You sound just like Mum.” The two women laughed and linked arms, crunching across the frosted grass towards the impressive house.

Inside, it was much warmer. The decor stretched out into the foyer, green ribbons and white flowers spreading over every ceiling and surface. Jane and Lizzy began to turn the corner to walk through the dining hall, but ran directly into Kitty and Lydia, both wearing dresses in the same shade of deep green as their older sisters. Lizzy was struck by how similar they could look sometimes: the same dark, wavy hair, the same sharp cheekbones, the same fine noses. 

“What are you two doing?” Lydia seemed to be enjoying whatever crisis that was currently happening immensely, looking simultaneously stressed and happy. “Jane, you’re meant to be with us!”

“That’s why I was coming in.” Jane said patiently. 

“Well, come on then! We need to find Dad, I have no idea where he is.” Lydia grabbed Jane’s arm and brushed past Lizzy. Kitty shrugged apologetically before Lydia rushed back. “Liz, will you just go and double check the decorations in the dining hall? None of those bloody staff are listening to me.”

She ushered the other two away, Jane and Kitty looking back at Lizzy, halfway between amused and irritated. Lizzy was left in the foyer alone. She sighed and walked into the dining hall. 

It was a sight to behold: each table was covered in a pearly white tablecloth, topped off with centrepieces made from ferns and white roses. The tall windows all had white fairy lights hanging down to the sills, and there were even more lights suspended from the ceiling on thin wire, so it almost looked like fireflies were flickering about the room. Lizzy rolled her eyes at Lydia’s dramatics - the room was absolutely perfect. 

Lizzy slowly walked around each table, checking the name cards. She was to be sat next to Lottie at the large, rectangular table at the front, which she already knew from the countless tedious practice dinners that Mary had insisted they all be present for. 

Against her better judgment, Lizzy decided to check something. She looked around furtively; only one lone caterer was hanging around, setting out cutlery. Lizzy began walking around every table, quickly checking the name cards. No, no, no, no...

She reached the head of the hall. He wasn’t coming. 

Which was completely and totally fine. 

*

“I think I might throw up. Don’t laugh at me, Liz, I’m serious.”

Lizzy turned to look at Lottie properly. She was looking a little pale.

“Look, it’s fine, all you have to do is stand up in front of everyone and confess your undying love for my sister, which you do every day anyway.”

“What if she’s had second thoughts?”

“Have you had second thoughts?”

“No.”

“So why would she? Just shut up or everyone in the front rows will hear and think you’re going to do a runner.” 

“If I’m sick will you take over?”

“Take over what? Getting married to my sister?”

“Oh, shit the music. The music’s started. Okay, this is it. Fuck. Okay.”

“Breathe. This is the happiest day of your life.” 

“I really think I might throw- oh. She looks... beautiful.” 

*

Lottie had finally stopped looking a pale shade of green when Mary walked down the aisle on Mr. Bennet’s arm, with Jane, Kitty and Lydia in tow. The ceremony was perfect: both Mary and Lottie’s vows were beautiful and led to Mrs. Bennet, Mr and Mrs. Lucas, Jane, Charlie, Kitty and Lydia, as well a large portion of the rest of the attendees, crying their eyes out. Even Lizzy struggled not to shed a tear, but managed to sober up quickly when she saw Mrs. Bennet going into a mild fit of hysterics and decided that she absolutely did not want to react like her mother.

After the ceremony, the happy newlyweds ran out of the venue hand in hand, surrounded by their confetti-throwing entourage, straight into the waiting lens of the wedding photographer. Thankfully, the winter weather was dry, crisp and cold, giving the atmosphere a pleasantly frosty feel. Lizzy felt like her eyes might fall out of her head and her ankles might roll out of her high heels after all the pictures she posed for: a picture with Lottie and Mary, a picture with just Mary, a picture with Lottie, a picture with all of the Bennet sisters, a picture with the Bennet-Lucas clan, a picture with Jane and Charlie - every single time she tried to sneak away to get a drink, someone pulled Lizzy back in for another photo, until it was time to go back in for the long-awaited wedding dinner. 

All three courses of the dinner were delicious, and Lizzy found herself growing suitably sloshed. From where she was sat, Lizzy had a perfect view of all of the guests at their allotted tables. Charlie and Jane sat almost entwined, like one body, with Kitty sat next to them looking simultaneously disgusted and endeared. Lydia had somehow wrangled a seat next to a very attractive university friend of Mary’s with whom she was drunkenly flirting.

In one last moment of desperation as she stood up, wobbling slightly, Lizzy craned her neck to look around the hall. He wasn’t there. All she got was awkward eye contact with a few people that she vaguely knew, and a suspicious look from Jane. 

“Excuse me! Excuse me, everyone.” Lizzy tapped the side of her glass with a fork, earning a nervous look from Mary in case it broke. Everyone in the hall collectively stopped talking and turned to look expectantly at Liz. It was rather intimidating. 

“I’ve got, ah, a few things to say. If any of you don’t know me, I’m Elizabeth. Lizzy. Maid of honour, slash best man, I guess? Anyway, whatever my role in this wedding has been, I’m Lottie’s best friend first. Now, many of you would probably say that it’s weird to watch your little sister and your best friend fall in love and eventually get married. But I say...” She paused. “You’re absolutely right, it is bloody weird.” 

Everyone tittered; Lottie guffawed and grabbed Mary’s hand, before looking up at Lizzy. She had tears in her eyes. Lizzy knew she was doing a fine job. 

“In fairness, aside from it being weird, it’s also been frankly beautiful to watch two of the people that I love the most in the world, essentially grow up together. Now, before I tell you all how the lovely Mary and Charlotte got together, I should probably tell you a few embarrassing things about Lottie. Does that sound good?”

There was a resounding cry of “Yeah!” from the guests. 

“Well, okay then...” 

As Lizzy went to launch into her first anecdote, something suddenly caught her eye out of one of the tall, stately windows. A sleek silver car was pulling up onto the gravel outside of the mansion. Suddenly, Lizzy was looking out of the window of Pemberley’s again, sipping tea and spying on three strangers outside of the coffee shop. 

She was watching the tall, dark-haired man unload boxes outside of the shabby little shop, never smiling. She could see his large hands, fingers splayed over the cardboard as he strained to lift them. She could feel her heart rate pick up. 

She was watching him get out of the car. His silver car. 

“Liz?”

Mary hissed up at Lizzy, snapping her out of her trance. Her eyes were wide and concerned. “You okay? Kind of zoned out on us there.”

Lizzy looked from Mary and Lottie to the hall. They were all staring at her. Jane and Charlie looked at each other in concern. 

Lizzy took one more look out of the window. The car had gone.

“Sorry about that, folks, the wine that Mary chose is very strong if you hadn’t noticed! Talking of not being able to handle drink, I’m sure you would all like to know about the events of Charlotte Lucas’ eighteenth birthday...” 

*

Lizzy always tried as hard as possible not to think about the events of the year before.

She liked to think that she had grown as a person, but honestly she wasn’t sure if that was even true, and of course she wouldn’t ask anyone if she had changed. Occasionally, when she unwillingly reminisced on the fateful New Year’s Eve, her palm would tingle, and she would see a distorted image of his hand touching his newly red cheek. Then, she would push that memory to the back of her mind, as far as it would possibly go, and try not to dredge it back up. 

Once, during a Bennet sister dinner night, she and Lydia had drunk too much Prosecco and Lydia had convinced her to download tinder. Lizzy had vowed to delete it the very next morning, but found herself scrolling through hundreds of bachelors. And she swiped left on every. Single. One. Sometimes, she would see a man with dark hair and black eyes and big hands and a beautiful smile, and her heart would catch in her throat. But it was never him, because why would it be? That would be far too easy. 

It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, Lottie said. Lizzy was lonely and sad over Darcy, but unwilling to allow herself to move on. 

“Liz, you don’t realise it, but you’re really wallowing.” Lottie had said this to Lizzy one night. They had gone for cocktails at some overpriced bar as a private celebration, a few days after Lottie and Mary got engaged. Lizzy had furrowed her brow and knocked back the rest of her whiskey sour. 

“No I’m not! I’ve got a new job which actually requires me to use my degree, I’ve got plenty of friends, I’ve actually given up smoking, I’ve got a bloody wedding to organise now, I-“  
“But you’re not happy, are you?”

Lizzy couldn’t hide anything from Lottie. She kept her mouth shut. 

“It’s him, isn’t it? You’re still thinking about him.” 

“I...”

“Because it’s okay that you are. It only happened, what, two months ago? And he left so abruptly, you’re bound to feel hung up about it. I just... I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push you. But you can, you know, if you feel like it. Always.” 

Lizzy often wondered why she acted the way she did with him. If it had been anyone else, would she have been so upset about being unattractive, about not being ‘tempting’ enough? She didn’t think so. 

So did she really love Darcy?

It had all happened so quickly, so intensely. They had only kissed once, a hard, angry, bruising kiss. They hadn’t slept together. They hadn’t even been on a date. All they seemed to do was argue and make up and be passive aggressive, or even openly aggressive, towards each other. 

So why had she felt drawn to him so deeply, like he was tethered straight to her heartstrings? 

It didn’t make any sense. 

“You’re really in your own little world today, aren’t you?”

Charlie had sat down next to Lizzy. At ten o’clock, the wedding reception was in full swing. From where she was sat at a table next to the dance floor, Lizzy could see Lottie and Kitty jumping around to ‘Sweet Caroline’ amidst the large crowd of happy dancers. Jane was dancing with her father, smiling and moving cautiously with her hand on her belly. Mrs. Bennet, Mary and Lydia were all drunk and trying to create a dance routine, but all three kept collapsing into giggles and tripping over each other, Mary’s dress hiked up around her knees. 

“Yeah, sorry.” Lizzy tried to smile normally, but suddenly felt like she might cry. She turned away from Charlie momentarily to compose herself. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, Bing, honestly. It’s Lottie and Mary’s wedding. I’m happy for them, you know I am. I’m just in a bit of a funk, I think.”

Charlie smiled sympathetically. “I know. It’s okay, Liz, we’ve all been there.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.”

The thing that Lizzy loved the most about Charlie was that he had an uncanny knowledge of when to push it and when not to. Lizzy knew that, if she needed to cry and rant, he would come armed with hugs and hot chocolates. But he also knew when all she needed was a smile and a pat on the back. 

He pushed her lightly on the shoulder.

“Fancy a dance?”  
“If you insist.” 

He stood up and offered her his arm, mockingly formal. Lizzy stood up, smoothed down her jumpsuit, and took his arm, letting him lead her onto the dance floor. 

“Oh, what a coincidence!” Charlie grinned under the neon lights from the ceiling. “You love this song!”

The DJ had just put on David Bowie’s ‘Modern Love’. Lizzy took a deep breath. She grinned and tipped her head back, closing her eyes, and began to dance, her hands locked in Charlie’s.

The lights flashed in the dark behind her eyelids and the music thumped through her blood as she shouted along to the song. 

“...Things don’t really change, I’m standing in the wind, but I never wave bye bye...”

Charlie spun her around. Lizzy laughed and sang, sang and laughed. Her heart suddenly felt less heavy on the dance floor. It was just her and the music at her best friend’s wedding, and everything was really fine. 

Lizzy felt, for the first time in nearly a year, that she really could wave bye bye. 

When she opened her eyes, still dancing, she could see Charlie mouthing something. 

“What?”

He leaned in closer. “I need to tell you something!”

“What is it?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it again. 

“Bing?”

“It’s fine! Never mind!” Charlie stopped dancing and bit his lip. “I need the loo. Save the next dance for me, yeah!”

“Uh, okay...”

Charlie smiled nervously and weaved through the dancers towards the bathroom. Lizzy stood, alone again, sweating and breathing heavily in the middle of the dance floor. What was all that about. 

Suddenly exhausted, she returned to her table, content with watching everyone else until Charlie came back. She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. 

Lizzy smiled to herself. Maybe she would be okay on her own.

“Elizabeth.” 

Her stomach lurched. Her heart twisted. Lizzy turned around in her seat and looked up.

His face was slightly thinner and more tanned, and his hair was longer, almost reaching the collar of his pale grey shirt. There was a stubbly shadow dusting his sharp jaw. His eyes were the same as ever. Black and gold. 

“I... Darcy?” 

Darcy stood there for a moment too long, twisting his hands together, before abruptly walking around her and sitting down at the table. 

Lizzy’s throat felt tight but she had to ask him. “What are you doing here?”

“Lottie asked if I was around for the reception because I couldn’t make it back in time for the service. I got back about an hour ago.” He smiled. “Jet-lagged, as you can probably tell.”

Lizzy could see now that there were dark shadows under his eyes, and the lines around his mouth seemed more pronounced.

“Lottie didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I... I know. I asked her to keep it to herself. Only she and Charlie knew.”

“Why?” Lizzy kept her eyes on his face. He was looking at the tablecloth with apparent interest, but suddenly looked straight into her eyes. 

“I wanted to see you.”

It was like an arrow had pierced straight into Lizzy’s heart. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, it felt so surreal. She suddenly spied Charlie back on the dance floor, looking over anxiously. Jane was by his side, her mouth wide open. Lizzy ignored them both and looked back at Darcy. His eyes were still on her. 

“You did?”

“Of course.”

The music sounded muffled all of a sudden. The lights looked dimmer and everything seemed to move slowly. Tentatively, Darcy moved his hand across the table. Lizzy looked at it. 

She moved her own hand and rested it on top of his. Her palm wasn’t tingling anymore. 

“Elizabeth Bennet,” Darcy’s voice was almost a whisper. “Would you like to get a coffee with me some time?”

Lizzy smiled. It was so simple.

“I would love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so..... that’s the end! 
> 
> originally, i was going to have a traditional p&p ending - maybe a wedding, or a glimpse into darcy and lizzy’s future together. but i decided to have it more lowkey and kind of leave it open to interpretation regarding what they do next. 
> 
> this has been such a rollercoaster and i have absolutely loved writing this fic. you are all so wonderful, and thank you all SO much for reading my little story. love to you all


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